Rendezvous
by Fuzzy Peaches1
Summary: It doesn't happen often, but Val finds herself in a spot where she has to ask for help. Is there really any other option outside of calling Charming again? Takes place after "This House is Haunted" and after the denouement of "Something Wicked."
1. Chapter 1

Valerie sunk back into the vinyl-coated chair, sighing as quietly as she could. As exhausted as she was, she couldn't sleep.

Just one year with no life-altering drama, that's all she really wanted.

Nice thought. She should really know better.

Walking away from her house in Charming, buying a new one and basically taking her university education twice over ate up all the cash she had. The savings that were left for Mickey's school were paying for this hospital stay and pre-op so far, which included money given to her from a highly illegal gun shipment, and it _still _wouldn't cover the operation and recovery.

She was staring at her cell phone, her stomach in knots at the thought of the call she was about to make. Her friend Malcolm didn't have this kind of money, and her brother and his girlfriend had a baby of their own they had to worry about. Loans other than mortgages or the _pay day _variety were out until she got her Canadian citizenship, and until then she also didn't qualify for that nifty universal health care. Mickey had been born in Oakland, so he wasn't any more Canadian than she was. Her US health insurance had run out with her change of address. She'd messed this up spectacularly.

She flipped through the phone book on her cell. She had no idea why she'd programmed this number to begin with. Nothing but a horrible temptation, really.

In his hospital bed Mickey shifted, still asleep, entire fist going almost all the way into his mouth, jaw working in some odd baby dream.

Valerie knew the hospital wouldn't turn her away for not having the cash up front, but she didn't want to owe just _anyone _this much cash. She hit the number to dial without another thought, ignoring the growing pit in her stomach. The voice that answered on the other end wasn't the one she expected, thank Christ. It was male and sounded very young.

"Teller-Morrow."

She frowned. "Juice?"

The pause was long, then he laughed. "Holy shit. Val? Is this you?"

She smiled, eyes closing as she remembered the baby-faced biker with the ridiculously wide, white grin and equally ridiculously adorable dimples and huge brown eyes. "Yeah, it's me."

"Holy shit," he repeated, his voice genuinely warm. "Val, how've you been? We miss you, you know."

She ignored the prickle in her eyes now. His voice was so sweet and caring. She could just picture him, holding the handset of the phone, eyes cast downward, suddenly embarrassed by what he just said. "Awww, Juice. I miss you too."

"Hey, you got that photo right?"

Again the tears threatened to rise. "I did. It was wonderful. Thank you for getting it to me." Shit, the tears came anyway, and as she sniffed she risked a look to Mickey. He was still sleeping soundly.

"I was pretty sure you wouldn't have any pictures of him. And you both looked pretty happy in it."

She closed her eyes, not needing another reminder of the photo she kept framed next to her bed. One wouldn't think a photo taken of a man just after a bloody fist fight would be a precious material possession, but to_ her_ it was.

"Thanks Juice. That was very thoughtful."

"What … what's up?"

She smiled. "I don't suppose Chibs is close by?"

"Yeah, he's in the garage. Let me yell for him." There was a muffled bellow, where she imagined he'd pressed the handset to his shoulder to save her ear. Then he was back. "He'll be right here. Is everything okay? How's … how's the little guy?"

Now she outright sobbed, covering her mouth. Mickey didn't stir.

"Val? Val? What is it?"

She shook her head, but of course he couldn't see it. "Can I … can I just speak to Chibs?"

"Sure, okay. He's right here." Now he sounded panicky, which didn't help the emotional havoc she was wreaking.

There was a pause while she pulled herself together, sniffling and wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. It was a lost cause because the second that voice came on the line she was a mess again.

"Val? Is everything alright?"

She fought to keep her voice under control, knowing she was doing a terrible job. "No," she whispered. "I … I'm not sure what to do."

"What is it, sweetheart? What's happened?"

She covered her face, thinking this would be easier if he told her to fuck off. After all, she'd ghosted for over a year and was now only calling to ask the worst favour possible. "I need money."

"How much?"

She sniffled again, feeling like shit. "Fifteen thousand."

"What's it for, love?"

"Mickey," that answer was easy. "He needs surgery. On his heart."

"Jesus, Val. Are _you _all right?"

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. "I'm fine. I'm just … not sleeping. We've been in the hospital for a couple days now."

"What's wrong with 'im?"

"Patent ductus arteriosis," she recited. She'd been saying it to herself so much it was just a series of nonsensical syllables.

"That sounds pretty big for a little guy."

"They have to operate on his aorta. It's congenital, they say. But of course my contact with my family is strained and limited so I wouldn't know."

"Val? Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart."

She did as told, feeling better just from the calm in his voice. "Sorry. I'm exhausted. I'm at the hospital and I can't sleep here. And I can't leave him."

"Don't apologize. I can't imagine how hard this is. Listen though, that's a bit more than I've got lying around right now."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. "I understand. Sorry to bother you -"

"Val," he interrupted with a slight chuckle. "Just wait one second. I think I know someone who can help who has a bit more cash floating around."

She frowned. "Who?"

"Did you try getting hold of Liam?"

She took a moment to place the name, then face-palmed herself. "Oh my God."

"Val?"

"I can't believe I didn't think of him."

He chuckled, and the sound warmed her heart as much as he would have if he'd been there to give her a hug. "You relax. I'll get hold of O'Hara for you, okay? Don't worry about anything. Just take care of Mickey."

The tears came again, and she was shaking with it. "Jesus, I miss you," she said on a sigh, barely realizing she'd uttered it out loud.

There was a pause on the other end. She clued in to what she'd said, covering her mouth, wondering how the hell to back track.

"Just wait by the phone, love. I'll call you back at this number, yeah?"

"Thank you," she answered, waiting until he hung up. She stared down at the phone, ended the call, and then hung her head. She wished it wasn't a tremendous relief to have someone taking care of her. She didn't need it, she was usually capable. Even in this situation she honestly knew that without help she'd figure out a way to make it all okay. If she'd been on her own this phone call wouldn't have even been an option, but looking at her sleeping son she knew she wasn't okay. She couldn't split her energy between working to raise money to pay the bills and making sure her son was taken care of.

At tough as she might be she was still only one person, and she had someone very important counting on her.

She still hated that she'd had to call for _money_. She felt like shit for it. And why had she asked for Chibs? She could have asked Juice. Juice had never admitted to having feelings for her. Asking for Chibs had been almost cruel.

The sleeping infant next to her chuffed and kicked a foot out, his brow furrowing. She was listening to his respiration like an undercover surveillance operator. Everything else was background noise to his rhythmic breathing.

She had always sworn up and down his lungs were perfect. He was loud, and his crying needed no baby monitor to be heard. No matter where she was in the yard or house it was audible. Loud, loud, loud, like his father. He'd always been a bit of a cougher as well. He would have strange fits and then he'd be fine after a minute. Then the coughing got _wet _sounding.

Valerie had been beside herself. He couldn't have pneumonia. It had to be something else. She took him into the family doctor where they'd discovered his heart beat was irregular.

The doctor hadn't hit the roof and freaked; he explained the procedure was quite common to fix the aortic valve. But of course to _her_ it was absolutely lethal.

They'd taken him right to the hospital in Prince Rupert, where the doctors explained what had to be done and she'd started memorizing the name of this condition. She clung to the part where they said it was very likely he'd live a completely healthy and normal life. She needed that to be true. She couldn't lose him. He was all she had. He was her life and soul.

She couldn't handle another tragedy. She would bet her own heart would stop without him.

Not able to help herself, she looped an arm under the rails of the bed and put her hand on his. In sleep his little chubby digits wrapped around her index finger without hesitation, and he turned his head to her, pulling her finger to his mouth. Ah, he was dreaming about feeding. She'd weaned him off the breast but apparently in sleep he was all about boobs still.

The phone rang and she jumped, waking Mickey. He was startled, trying to figure out where he was. But he hadn't cried since they got to the hospital. He was quiet and cautious, like making noise might bring scary people to poke at him some more. His wide blue eyes relaxed when he saw her though, and his smile was beyond adorable, drool running down his chin.

"Hey handsome," she said softly, answering the call. "Hello?"

"Val? I got hold of Liam."

"Already?"

"He'll get you the cash. You need to tell me the bank account number and branch."

Her eyes watered again. They'd already been looking for the best way to get the cash to her? "I can send him that. I'll send him a text."

"Do you know the numbers, love? Just give them to me and I'll make sure he gets it. Don't worry."

She covered her eyes. "Okay. I think I've got my check book here." With her free hand pulled from Mickey's slobbery fist she started going through her purse.

"Are they doing this surgery there? Seems kind of major for a small town."

"They sent us to Prince Rupert," she answered, finding her checks. "I dropped the dog at the kennel and I haven't been home since."

"Did you find your checks, love?"

She had to smile at his patient tone. "Yeah, they're right here." She recited the numbers and he read them back to her to make sure they were right.

"The money will come through from Clover Investments."

She snorted, the first not-crying noise she'd made in a while. "Clover?"

"Yeah, those Irish are clever. And don't worry about putting Liam out. He's got the money, believe me. He sounded plenty worried about the little'un."

She nodded, stuffing everything back in her purse. "Chibs, I don't know how I can … thank you. For this."

"I didn't do anything, Val. Just made the call." The line went silent, and she just listened to the background sound of wherever he was. "I miss you, too, Val," he said finally.

It closed her eyes, made her inhale. She ignored the surge of emotion. She had bigger issues to deal with. "Okay. And … thank you."

"Take care, love. And give that kid a squeeze from us, yeah?"

"Absolutely."


	2. Chapter 2

**You _guys_! Two days, 26 followers and 147 viewers? One chapter and 10 favourites already? You guys humble me, totally. **

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The nurses had lent her a cot so she could stay in Mickey's room during the night. Sure she was exhausted but sleeping in a hospital was impossible. She tossed and turned, the sound of Mickey's breathing holding all her attention.

Since she'd had Mickey, Val hadn't imagined Tig as a father to him at all, as odd as it seemed. His death was held too separate from Mickey's birth in her own mind. She didn't want that tragedy tainting something that she loved more than she ever thought possible. She couldn't bring herself to imagine the man she kept in her mind holding Mickey to his chest, soothing him to sleep at night or picking him up in the morning from his crib, holding his hands when he tried to walk. Not only did it seem out of character, those types of daydreams were just too painful. No point spending energy on something that wasn't going to happen.

But lying on that cot on her side, staring between the bars on the hospital bed at the tiny little person dozing away without a care she would have done anything to not be alone right then. There was no act too dangerous, no event too violent, nothing too scary for her to manage if it meant having Tig here assuring her everything was fine and she had nothing to worry about. As much as her heart ached with the thought, it also pissed her off. Losing him hadn't been her doing _or _his. Events out of their control had caused it.

Mickey didn't have a father just for that reason alone, and she was making due with a huge chunk of her heart missing. Even if it _was_ slowly filling back in with every day she had Mickey in her life.

During the day it wasn't so bad. She was usually so busy her thoughts couldn't wander. But at night, when it was quiet, her mind was a traitor. She'd spent _years_ without a lover. She hadn't missed it. But in the short time she'd had Tig in her bed and her life had apparently trained her to want the attention, the company, and certainly the sex as much as possible. She would have been able to take nights apart here and there, knowing he was coming back at some point. But _this_ was divine torture. It was never going to be like that.

Now with this added medical development her _aloneness _was painfully apparent.

When her eyes would close it was always the feeling of being _held _that she recalled. Nothing aggressive or dirty, just the sense that if his arms were wrapped around her, she was safe and could sleep without worry. It was the thought that usually lulled her to sleep each night;_ pretending_ he was with her.

Not these past couple nights at the hospital, though. The only thing that calmed her was closing her eyes and trusting that Tig thought she was doing right by their son. She hoped like hell he'd be proud of her so far.

That night she gasped at the thought, squeezing her eyelids shut, forcing the tears into the pillow. She could be so much tougher than this, but the nights in the hospital she usually wept until she passed out for a half hour at a time. But for whatever reason she _did _sleep, likely relieved that the money concern was going to be resolved. The nurses bustling in to prep Mickey for surgery woke both of them.

He hated being roused ahead of his own internal clock, plus he hadn't eaten for much longer than he was used to. It all made him a miserable little bastard, and the yowling started immediately. The female nurses cooed and rubbed his tummy, which he loved. Attention from women was clearly going to be one of his reasons for living.

Yeah, daddy would be so proud.

Before long the tears were forgotten. Valerie let him hold her index finger, bringing another smile out on those round cheeks. Then they told her they'd let her carry him to surgery. Not _into_ the operating room, just down the hallway. She held him to her chest tight, rubbing his back, smiling as he let his heavy head drop to her shoulder with a big sigh, his hand getting hold of her hair. He was still sleepy as she kissed the top of his head then handed him off to a nurse at the operating room door. Valerie wrapped her arms around her waist to prevent herself from following them into the tiled room.

The second she was out of sight she heard him start crying again, and without any chance of scaring him she let herself fall apart, crying with big, heaving sobs that hurt her throat and shook her shoulders. A nurse rubbed her back, gently suggesting she take a seat outside the swinging doors of surgery.

Valerie let herself be led to a vinyl sofa, arranged in a square of similar benches around a low table. There was a vending machine in the far corner, a candy machine, and a TV on a news station. She was the only person in the room.

It wasn't for another minute or so that she couldn't hear him crying anymore. The procedure was done under general anesthetic, she had to remind herself so she didn't go bolting back through the doors.

This was helplessness. She hadn't felt this since Tig died, slowly releasing his hold on her hand, _literally_ slipping away from her. She hated it.

The nurse who'd shown her to this room returned with a cup of hot coffee. Valerie took it with thanks, noticing her hands were shaking. Yeah, she sure needed _caffeine_.

She drank it anyway. She wouldn't turn down a show of kindness.

Valerie tried to stare at the screen and render herself into a TV coma, but her brain was too independent for that right now. It was alert, awake and churning. Once the coffee was gone she started picking apart the paper cup, making a little pile on the coffee table. Once that was gone she took up pacing as a hobby.

The door to the room swung open behind her, but she really didn't want any more coffee. Her nerves were shot as it was. When the nurse tentatively said "Ms. Turner?" she got a terrible feeling, the tone unsure and careful.

She spun around, heart already dropping, expecting the worst, just in time to see someone enter the room behind the petite dark-haired woman in scrubs. Her breath pushed out all at once and she had to blink once, twice, just to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

She gave a sob, covering her mouth, then she was rushing towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck, weeping and crying like a crazy person.

He didn't hesitate. Chibs wrapped an arm around her back tightly, the cradling the back of her head, shushing her and muttering to her "It's all right. It's okay, Val."

The nurse quietly ducked out of the room. At least, Valerie assumed she did. She couldn't hear anything over her own crying and Chib's soft assurances. The word _relief_ didn't really cover it, nor did _happiness_ or _appreciation_.

"Thank you," she realized she was repeating over and over. "Jesus, thank you so much."

"So you don't mind that I didn't call to let you know I was coming?" he said after a long moment, humour in his tone.

She stepped back, wiping her eyes and her nose, aware again that she hadn't showered in days and had been wearing the same clothes all this time. He looked like he always did, only now he wore a dark winter jacket with his jeans. He also looked as though her reaction had surprised him.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly, pushing her hair behind her ears. Why hadn't she at least brushed it?

"For what? That's the best welcome I've had in years."

Valerie allowed a smile which he returned, reaching out to wipe a tear off her chin. "Christ, you must have driven all night," she realized.

He nodded. "I did. And I don't know if you're aware of it, but there's snow out there."

The laugh kind of leapt out of her, unexpected. "I know. It's winter."

"He's in surgery then?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Went in about an hour ago."

"How long does it take?"

She shrugged. "Could be as long as five hours, as little as three."

He nodded, unzipped his jacket and tossed it on one of the benches. "All right then. We wait." He unzipped his hoodie, shrugged it off and pulled her down onto a sofa next to him. He rolled up the hoodie and put it on his leg. "Here. Get some sleep."

"No, I'll wait up -"

"Val," he interrupted. "Shut the fuck up and get some sleep."

She bit her lip, shaking her head and smiling. "You're an asshole."

"I know. Now sleep. Come on."

She stretched her legs out across the bench, settling down with her head on his improvised pillow. She let her eyes close, smelling his cologne and cigarette smoke in the fleece. His hand cupped her upper arm.

"If he's half as tough as his Ma he'll be just fine," was the last thing she heard him mutter before drifting off.

…

"Val, love? Doc's here."

The voice rustled her out of her sleep, the words crystal clear, cutting through the fog of slumber. She was sitting up, rubbing her face, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the brightness flooding the room. Eventually she noted the doctor standing in front of her, wearing her white lab coat and smiling warmly.

"Miz Turner?"

Valerie nodded and stood. "Yeah. Is everything okay?"

"He did fine. He's a tough one. Give him a couple hours in recovery and you can go and see him."

She listened to most of it, but the blood pounding in her ears abated and all she felt were more tears, her eyes already burning from crying so much. She couldn't talk, she just nodded as the doctor explained what Mickey's recovery would be. Chibs was rubbing her shoulder, and she leaned into him, relief making her realize how much tension she'd really been carrying around.

With another lovely, angelic smile the doctor left and she let Chibs pull her into another hug. "See? What I'd tell 'ya."

"Thank God," she was muttering, trying to calm her breathing and stop crying. It was good, this was all good news. She could just relax.

"All right. Let's go get you breakfast," he said, picking up his fleece and jacket.

"No, I'll wait here. You go ahead."

He pinned her with a withering glare. "They're not going to let you in to see him until he's awake. Come and eat something."

That tone invited no argument. So she nodded and with some help from signs in the corridors they found the cafeteria. Valerie wasn't feeling better to the point of being hungry, but oatmeal and a banana hit the spot anyway.

He watched her doctor up a coffee before asking "Are you feeling better, Mother?"

She had to laugh at that somewhat. "I am. Thank you."

"I'm glad the little bugger's going to be okay."

"Me too." Her voice hitched, and she felt tears again and covered her face. _Jesus, what the hell is with the crying?_

"Val?"

She shook her head. "Oh Chibs, he's just … he's so _small_. You didn't see him when I handed him off to the nurses …"

He reached across the table and pulled one of her hands away from her face, squeezing it. "Did you hear the doctor, Val? He's fine."

"I know. I'm just … I guess I'm relieved. I don't think I expected it to go well."

"With some of the luck you've had I can see why you'd be bit of a pessimist."

She raised her eyebrows. "You think?" The tears stopped. She drank some more coffee. Then the silence was just … too long. "I can't believe you drove all this way …"

He dismissed it with a snort. "Don't worry. Hasn't been too busy. When I told Jax what was up he actually agreed that someone should be here."

Valerie was surprised and it probably showed. "Really?"

"Don't forget who else's son that is, Val. He's got a lot of Uncles that wanna see him."

Valerie didn't know how to feel about that, but she decided to just live in the _now_. Mickey was okay. That was all that mattered.

"I know what Jax said to 'ya the last time he saw 'ya," Chibs said softly. "He was angry. He didn't want to believe what 'ya said. Hell, neither did I."

"He believes it now?"

Chibs nodded. "We all do. Unser confirmed it, so did Tara. I think he even talked to JT's Irish bird, Mo – JT was his Da. John Teller. The changes are hard to get used to but … it's been really hard to get used to, actually," he admitted with a dry laugh.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What's … what's difficult about it?"

He met her gaze, and for just a split second he looked sad before blinking and looking away. "I've been in that club for a long time. When I joined we weren't restaurant owners. This isn't the world I know."

She studied her hands. "So no getting shot at?"

He looked around the room, which was pointless. They were the only two in the cafeteria besides the lunch counter attendants. "You don't join something like the _Sons of Anarchy _hoping that you'll spend your days following up on produce shipments and sitting on your couch all damn night."

"It's a lot _safer_."

"Yeah, that's great. That's great for Jax, would have been great for Opie, or you and Tig for that matter. But the rest of us? More time at home isn't what we wanted. We don't _have _families and homes."

She felt her stomach sink. She'd pushed Jax to this before she'd left by revealing his mother's part in his father's death. She'd caused this before leaving town.

"Shit, Chibs. I'm sorry. I was so hell-bent on getting Gemma back I didn't think that the changes might not be what you wanted." She sighed. "Shit. That's all my fault."

He reached across the table again, grabbing her hands. "It got put to a vote, Val. Majority rules, you know that."

"But still -"

"Christ, I shouldn't have brought it up. Forget I said anything."

She grabbed his hands before he could pull away. "I'm still sorry."

His smile was slow. "Don't worry about me, Val. I'm a grown up. I was just venting."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"The last three days the only adult conversations I've had have been with medical professionals."

He let that sink in, then he laughed. "You're a medical professional, Val."

"Not exactly. I'm nothing compared to most of these people, trust me."

"So talking to me has 'ya feeling smart again, then?"

She had to smile back. "Ass."

"You're the one that said it."

She let her smile fade. "I meant what I said. I missed you." She didn't know why exactly she blurted it out right then, and she felt the slightest trepidation as it flew out of her mouth. But other than Mickey being okay, having someone she cared about here with her was such a huge relief.

"I missed 'ya too, Val. Even if Jax said no I still would've come."

She dropped her gaze to their joined hands, biting her lip. "It's so good to not be alone right now."

"You're not alone, Val. Not really."

She pulled her hands back, clenching them in her lap. "Chibs -"

"Val, don't make this into anything it's not." She avoided his eyes. "Now what do you want to do while we wait?"

She sighed. "I'd … I'd love to take a shower."

"Is there one in Mickey's room?"

"Yeah. I didn't use it because I didn't want to leave him alone."

"Let's go then. Show me where the room is, I'll go sit in the waiting room. If they come for 'ya before you're done I'll come get 'ya."

She nodded. "Okay."

As they walked shoulder to shoulder down the hall Valerie couldn't ignore the fact that she was completely at ease with the person next to her that was rubbing her back casually. She didn't move away. It was precisely the human contact she wanted.

She didn't, couldn't consider the man that was providing it as anything other than her friend.

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**Reviews and comments always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

Even putting on two-day-old clothes and underwear didn't take away from the gloriousness of her shower. The gift shop sold little bottles of shampoo and body wash, so Valerie even smelled nice when she began drying off. She found a few clips in her purse from who knows when, so she piled her wet hair up on the back of her head just to have it out of the way. Feeling silly, she tidied up the room a little bit. She straightened the bedding and piled up her own blankets and pillows on the cot. She hung up her jacket in the closet and stowed Mickey's carrier seat underneath, feeling better for having done something somewhat useful. Plus they'd be booting them out of this room while Mickey's stay was transferred to the intensive care unit for the next few days. Might as well organize.

Now that the surgery was done she just wanted to get home, somewhere familiar, but that was still about ten days away. There were a lot of strangers here which, due to her hidden family past made her slightly more nervous than your standard paranoid nutcase. Sadly, she was also uncomfortable without a gun nearby.

And she thought getting her son _home _would be better for him?

She wished like hell she'd thought to pack for a long stay, but she'd freaked out at how serious this was. Usually this condition was caught much sooner, and the doctor had wanted him in for the surgery as soon as it could be fit in. No time to pack. She literally ran home, herded the dog into the car, drove to the kennel, and then drove to Prince Rupert in the dead of night.

Ten more days until they could go home. It was going to drive her batty. And the intensive care stay was going to make her _really _manic. Visitors were only allowed in for so many hours, slightly longer in the case of infants but they weren't letting her stay all night in a room with him. She'd have to check into a hotel for a while. She didn't know how the hell she was going to walk away from him and leave him alone here overnight.

There was a knock on the door, and Chibs was opening it as she turned away from the closet. "Hey," she greeted him, shrugging into her cardigan.

"They said you can come see him now," Chibs said.

"Already?"

He shrugged. "I think they're extra sensitive to parents around here. They were ready to take _me _to him until I told them I wasn't the Da."

Intensive care has its own brand of _quiet._ She'd been through it when she was twelve, having nearly bled to death. Each bed was partitioned with curtains with the exception of one bed holding a tiny, tiny little person.

Again, seeing Mickey in such a big bed made her heart clench. He was utterly still, flat out on his back, head to the side, just like when he slept at home. A tube went up his nose and a few leads ran cables out from under his hospital-issue sleeper. He was breathing evenly, normal.

She stood next to the bed, hands clenched in front of her. Jesus, she wanted to snatch him up and leave. But all that equipment told her he wasn't ready to be held, which made her heart ache more.

"He'll need to be sedated a bit for a while," the nurse explained. "Once his healing's well underway we can transfer him to peds, which most kids his age really like. It's good for them to be around kids their age. You'll be shocked how fast he bounces back."

Valerie snuck a hand out over the rail, putting her finger in the palm of his hand. On instinct his fingers curled around it, weakly, but he was holding on. She could have sobbed, but the room was so quiet she didn't want to disturb anyone.

"Yeah, he knows that's mom," the nurse cooed, patting his tummy. "Before you know it he'll be charming the nurses again."

Valerie smiled. "Yeah, he's my little Casanova."

"His laugh just kills me," the nurse said. "He sounds like … I don't even know."

"He sounds like an old man laughing at a dirty joke," Valerie supplied. "I know, it sounds so funny coming from a baby."

It made the nurse chuckle. "You can tell he's happy. He laughs a _lot_. You must be a good mom."

The younger woman left them alone for a moment, and Valerie had to blink back more tears, yet again. She was trying to be a good mom, she really was.

She hung over the rails of the bed, just staring at him, running her free hand over his belly until his fist slackened its hold on her finger. She took in his round little face, so peaceful, noting that he looked _good. _He looked healthy. His cheeks were pink and he was normal temperature under her hand. He was going to be fine.

Valerie had no idea how long she stood there petting him like a puppy, but eventually the nurse came in and told her the ICU visiting hours were over. She assured Valerie that at nine the next morning she could be back in and he'd be awake by then.

Walking away was painful, but at least he was sleeping. She felt like she was abandoning him as the door silently closed behind her and it must have shown. Chibs looked up from the magazine he was thumbing through, took in her expression, and got to his feet with a sympathetic smile. "You saw him? How is he? They didn't accidentally remove a leg or arm did they?"

She hit him in the chest. "Don't make fun of me. This is the fourth-worst thing that's happened to me. At least this one should work out okay."

Chibs dismissed her weak anger by hugging her. "Well, the staff came by and they need the room. So I've got your stuff in my rental. We'll find you somewhere to stay, then I'll run to Kitimat for you."

She pulled back and frowned at him. "What?"

"Well I know you wouldn't leave town for anything right now. I'll run to your place, get you some clothes, anything else you need. If you get a motel that allows pets maybe I'll bring the dog back, too. Keep you company. You got books you want me to bring 'ya or anything?"

"You don't have to -"

"I'm aware of that. But I'm going to. So what do you want me to bring 'ya?"

Her lip was trembling again and she didn't know what to do with her hands, so she grabbed him by the face and kissed him once before throwing her arms around his shoulders again. "I don't know what I did to deserve this," she muttered.

He hugged her back, again, laughing. "Jesus, you're an emotional wreck, Val."

"I know."

"I'm here for 'ya though. You can relax now." She hugged him for longer than was necessary, then he patted her hip and backed off. "Let's find you a room somewhere. You're not sleeping in a hospital corridor."

There was a motor inn two blocks away from the hospital with ground-floor units that allowed pets. Valerie could tell the _ground floor _part made Chibs nervous, but she reminded him her threat level here was quite low.

She made a list of stuff to grab from the house and called the kennel to tell them Peggy would be picked up today, or first thing tomorrow if Chibs was late getting there.

Chibs was studying her list as she ended the phone call. "Val, you forgot underwear on here."

"No I didn't. I am buying underwear. You're not going rifling through my drawers."

That made him laugh. "I'll just do it anyway."

"You're a dirty old bastard."

"And I'm driving four hours to bring you clean shirts and jeans. Don't forget it."

"I won't." She followed him to the door. She wanted to say something and had no idea how to broach the subject without giving him the wrong idea, but it had to be said all the same. "Chibs, look. When I left Charming … that thing I said to you …" Fuck, she had no idea how to even apologize. And she still felt like she needed to.

He turned back, hand on the door knob. "You said it so I would call Jax and you could drive the dagger through Gemma's heart."

She nodded, her shame about that episode nowhere near faded. "You would have just let me go without saying anything, wouldn't you?"

He nodded. "I would have. But I played the part exactly as you wanted."

She cringed. "I shouldn't have said it. It was terrible of me."

"On some level you might have meant it."

She shook her head. "No. The truth is … any woman would be lucky. To have you."

He set his jaw and studied her shrewdly. "It it's not in your heart you got nothing to apologize for."

"I have to know. I have to know why you'd come all this way and do all this for me."

He looked away and his voice grew softer. "I'm keeping a promise. I got to your house first that night, saw Tig, and the last thing he said to me on this earth was _Val's still inside. Go get her, take care of her_.'"

Fucking _tears … _again. "That's the truth?"

"God's honest. I have no interest in competing with the memory of a dead man who was a good friend of mine. Don't worry."

He was off without another word. Valerie picked up the teddy bear that had been left in the car carrier when they brought all her things into the motel, hugged it to her chest, then curled up on the bed and fell asleep.

…

Valerie awoke in a room dimmed with a gray, dull light. It took her a moment to recognize the hotel room. She'd passed out so completely and thoroughly her brain still hadn't woken, apparently.

She flicked on the TV but only four channels came in, one of them in French. She flicked the knob back to "off" and surveyed the room for entertainment but nothing exactly leapt out at her. She'd spent the wait for Mickey's surgery at the hospital moving her sessions back a couple weeks so work was taken care of. She was showered from the morning so a bath would just seem silly and decadent.

She decided it was time to call the family and friends about Mickey. A short list, to be sure. But she still hadn't told her half-brother about it, _or _her good friend Malcolm.

She tried Peter first, got voice mail. She left a message explaining she had to talk to him right away, asking him to call her back. Next it was Malcolm, and he was at home.

"Hmmm, an all-zeroes phone number on my call display. This must be Valerie."

She had to laugh. "Yes, it is. How are you Malcolm?"

"I'm going to start calling you _Caller Unknown_. I'm fine. How are you and that adorable little sumo wrestler?"

"We're … we're _going to be _fine," she broached carefully.

"Honey, what happened?"

She told him about Mickey's surgery and estimated recovery time, finishing with hollow assurances that everything had gone perfectly and that Mickey was expected to be back to himself in about a week.

"That poor little bugger," Malcolm said softly. "I hope he's as tough as he looks."

She smiled into the handset. "He is."

"Well, between your genes and his father's I'm sure he could survive even worse. But I wouldn't wish it on either of you. You need anything? Where _are _you anyway?"

"I'm at a motel not far from the Prince Rupert hospital. He's in ICU so I'm only allowed to visit so many hours of the day. He should be out of there in a couple days, they _think_. I hope so. I just want to get him _home_."

"I can come see you. You want me to bring you things? Swing by your house for you?"

"No, no that's fine. A friend of mine offered to do that already."

"Peter?"

"No." She frowned. "A … a friend."

"Valerie, you got friends I don't know about? And I'm guessing this isn't a _girl_friend because otherwise you would have said _girlfriend_."

She rubbed her forehead. "I don't want to get into this with you right now."

"Who is it?"

"A friend from Charming, okay?"

"Really."

"He's been good to me. Always has been."

"_Really_."

"Malcolm -"

"Doesn't happen to ride a motorcycle, does he?"

"I've got bigger worries on my plate than trying to convince you my love life is as barren as the salt flats."

He laughed at that. "Well, nothing's _growing _on the salt flats, that's true. But they're always racing cars. There's plenty of action out there, actually."

"Enough," she couldn't help but laugh.

"All right. Fine. I'm done. Next time you see Mickey give him a big kiss for me, okay?"

"I will."

"And take care of yourself, Valerie. A good sex life is an important part of a healthy body _and _mind."

"Malcolm. I'll call you when I get Mickey home."

"Thank you honey. Take care."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

She hung up shaking her head, tossing the phone down and flopping back onto the hotel bedcovers. Talking to Malcolm usually made her feel better about everything. But telling him the little she had about Chibs had her even more confused.

The only man she'd been concerned with in the last eight and a half months was Mickey. Not to mention the nine months _before_ then. Her broken heart turned her love for Tig into something else. Not regret, just the pain of a lot of missed opportunity, like if she hadn't decided to cross that line with him she wouldn't be hurting. But she also wouldn't have Mickey.

She hadn't even _considered _moving on until just over a month ago when Chibs had shown up on her acreage. Valerie had been shocked and disoriented to see him. His presence was a warm friendship she valued. She'd always like Chibs; appreciated his humour and his ability to tell her when she was being a_ daft twit_.

She blamed that comfort on the fact that the club had sent him to _test _her dedication to Tig. When he'd made a move on her she got the feeling even he found the entire thing comical. She hadn't been scared of him. And when Tig had decided to give the illusion he didn't give a shit about her without _telling _her the why of it, Chibs had been there offering her comfort. Not _comfort _the way most people meant it. He'd flat out offered to take her to bed. That was when things had changed. He wasn't a sexless _pal_ anymore. He'd laid it out there he was attracted to her on some level.

Then he'd saved her life … what, two? Three times since then? That awkward moment was forgotten just two mere mob-shootouts later.

And the last time he's seen her, showing up at her house out of nowhere like a past haunt, he'd kissed her. She hadn't thought it had affected her at the time … but since then, she had caught herself remembering it. A few times. She thought it was familiarity of leather, dust, and a rough-and-ready man that had given her a tingle. On retrospect she couldn't put money on that.

Staring at the motel ceiling something stirred in her chest, around the spot where her heart sat before Tig's death wrenched it out. Malcolm and Peter _would_ do anything for her, truly. But she was starting to believe Chibs would be the one to go to the same lengths that Tig would have for her.

_Starting to think_? Hell, he already had.

She crossed her hands on her chest, closing her eyes. She couldn't confuse the comfort of a friend with genuine affection of the romantic kind. That was where things were getting mottled.

It was too soon for that. Her psychologist brain was telling her that she was lonely and mucking up the cogs of her grieving with an easy-out, easy comfort. Someone to just make her feel loved again. That was selfish.

Her heart was telling her there could be something there if she would just be open to it. Chibs wasn't a stranger she'd just met. He'd been there for all of it, too. And they both lost someone they cared about; it was an additional trauma to bond over. That was … less selfish.

She didn't want to see herself as _selfish_. And if she let him in, _truly _let him in and it didn't work out … that was a hell of a friendship to lose.

Damn Malcolm and his bloody big mouth. Putting ideas in her head like this. Not to mention Chibs just telling her he _wasn't _interested right before he left. Like most women, that only intrigued her.

A knock brought her out of her reverie, and she frowned at the fact that the room was now pitch black. Christ, she's fallen asleep again while internally commiserating over her romantic prospects.

She got up covering a yawn and checked out the peep hole. It was Chibs. She pulled the door open, smiling as he entered pulling a suitcase and a soft travel bag. "How was the drive?" she asked just as Peggy bounded at her with limitless energy, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Long and boring," Chibbs replied, tossing the luggage on the bed that wasn't rumpled. He turned to ask her something else, but he frowned as though something on her face interrupted the thought. "What? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, the slightest emotional panic rearing up. "Nothing. I was sleeping. I'm discombobulated." She reached down to scratch Peggy's ears, laughing at how over the moon the dog was to see her.

"I was going to ask if you ate because I'm bloody starving."

She squinted at the alarm clock. No wonder – it was seven already. "No, I was sleeping the whole time. I'm … I'm hungry too."

"Let me get cleaned up and we'll go get a bite."

He headed for the bathroom and she sunk down onto the foot of the mattress, Peggy leaping up beside her and wiggling halfway onto her lap, desperate to be noticed. Valerie scratched her chin and played with her ears absently, trying to separate her musings from what was actually happening. She had to stop looking at Chibs like she was auditioning him for a part in her life.

Damn Malcolm.

She opened the suitcase next to her, finding a variety of sweatshirts and long-sleeved T-shirts. There was also a messy ball of clean underwear, like he'd opened the drawer, closed his eyes, grabbed a handful and tossed it in the suitcase. It made her smile.

Val stood up, grabbing one of the tees and unfolding it. She pulled off the sweatshirt she'd been wearing for two days and tossed it on the bed, then shoved her arms into the tee and pulled it on over her head.

"That's nice," a voice said behind her and she jumped.

Valerie yanked the hem down to her waist, spinning, wondering if she was blushing. "Sorry, I thought you'd take longer."

His smile was bemused. "I've seen a woman's back before, Val. Don't worry about my virtue. I'm talking about the tattoo. The crow."

She exhaled. "Right. Yeah, I got that a while after Mickey was born."

"Can I see it?"

Valerie's heart was still jumping from being startled, and him asking her that didn't help matters. "Ummm … sure." For Christ's sake it was just her lower back.

She turned around and raised the hem of her shirt again, hearing him cross the carpet and stop behind her. She felt the air shift, and checking over her shoulder she noticed he had crouched for a better look. "The detail's quite good," he was musing. "Where'd you get it done?"

"A place in Seattle. A guy that was a friend of Peter's. He likes crows and always wondered why people don't want them tattooed more often."

He laughed at that, and as a shiver ran up her back she had to convince herself he had just brushed the skin slightly, because it felt more like an electric jolt.

"Sorry," he apologized, straightening up. "You must be ticklish there."

_Jesus Val, get it together. This is _Chibs_. A good friend. The best friend a person could want. Stop acting like a freaking teenager._

Damn Malcolm to _hell_.

"I might be," she said, pulling the shirt all the way back down and reaching for her jacket. "Where should we eat?"

"There's a grill up the street. Close enough to walk."

"Perfect."

He took her arm, concern puckering his brow again. "What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?"

She shook her head. "No. I called Peter and Malcolm and just _slept _the rest of the time. I feel a bit out of it. That's all."

"You need to eat again," he informed her, pulling the door open. "That'll set you right."


	4. Chapter 4

"Okay, that was more food than I've had in the past four days combined," Val groaned as the waitress carried their plates away.

"No reason to not eat. You're no good to anyone if you're close to passing out," Chibs muttered, picking his teeth.

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry."

He chuckled. "Smart ass."

She picked up her glass of beer, washing the last of the steak down her throat with a good gulp of dark traditional ale. "It hit the spot, thanks for dragging me out with you."

"Well, your other favourite activity is out of the question in this town."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"Trying to get me killed," he said with a small smile.

"My favourite activity is _avoiding death_, it has nothing to do with you. Get over yourself."

"My mistake, sorry."

They fell into a comfortable silence which was broken when the bill arrived. He tried to grab it but she was faster.

"Oy -" he was set to argue with her.

"Shove it. You've done enough. This is literally the least I can do."

She took a moment to muse that her picking up the bill seemed to vex him in some medieval way. With all the misogynistic tendencies of the club this should hardly surprise her, but now she found it somewhat charming. For whatever reason.

"I should have had more beer then," he muttered, draining his glass and setting it down loudly. "You done, sweetheart?"

She nodded, finishing her drink as well. "I am. Let's go."

He helped her into her jacket. She blamed the flutter in her chest on the beer. He waited outside while she paid the bill, and when she joined him he was halfway through a cigarette. He gestured with it. "You know you can't smoke indoors _anywhere _in this bloody country?"

"I know. I like it."

He exhaled a lungful of smoke. "Most places it wouldn't matter. But it's _winter_, Val. In _Canada_."

She smiled, zipping up her jacket. "We got a smoking room, Chibs. It's okay."

He paused before bringing the cigarette to his mouth. "You saying you'll let me stay in your room?"

She froze, knowing she probably looked stricken. "Oh. I just thought that it's a double room so … never mind. Sorry. I don't know why I thought that."

He was smiling as he took a drag. "I thought it would be much harder to get in your room than this."

"Chibs -"

"I'm just teasing. I wasn't sure you'd really want me to stay at all."

"You mean I'd let you drive all this way plus a round trip to my house just to send you back to Charming right away?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. It's not like _I'm _doing anything."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "I like you being here. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, actually. And I trust you to behave yourself, Chibs." That was totally an after-thought.

He held an arm out, and she linked hers through it. "I'm honoured I'm the only one you thought to call for help. Truly."

She was going to _kill _Malcolm for putting these thoughts in her head.

They walked in silence, a light snow starting to fall. Normally it would be seen as romantic. "Fuck," Chibs drawled, tossing his cigarette butt in a bin. "And it's snowing again."

She stopped, looking upward at how the snow billowed around a light standard. "I think it's gorgeous. It's peaceful."

"Peaceful and _quiet_," he muttered.

"Why are you so pissy?" she laughed, casting her eyes back down to him.

"I hate being cold. It's one of the leading reasons to move to California." He tugged on her arm. "I'm freezing my nuts off. Let's go."

She let herself he hurried along again, trying to keep up with his long strides. They reached the motel quickly because of his pace, and as they entered Peggy flew at the door again, racing past them this time to the snow and dropping her haunches.

"Poor thing," Valerie laughed.

"I know how she feels."

"Go ahead. I've got her. Go defrost. I thought the Scots had tougher nuts than that."

"It's been a long time since kilts, love. Evolution has moved on."

She shut the door, waiting patiently for Peggy to finish. Then she let the dog wander around the square of snow in front of her door which was likely grass in other seasons. When Peggy's toes were sufficiently chilled she returned to the door and Valerie let her back inside, closing it quickly and shrugging out of her jacket.

"You want some of this?" Chibs asked, standing at her dresser with a bottle of whiskey. In his jeans a long-sleeve Henley looking … comfortable.

"Damn," she muttered, then felt she had to qualify. "Whiskey is probably bad news, Chibs."

"It's never bad news. I think you need a real drink more than I do."

"Sure," she muttered, hanging up her jacket. "Pour me a junior-sized one, please."

"Light weight," he said, handing her a glass. He held his up. "To Mickey. A tough little bastard. May he soon be going home with his Ma."

She smiled at that, taking a sip and cringing. "Jesus, that's harsh."

"When's the last time you had a proper drink?"

She thought back. "Probably that time I kicked your ass at pool."

"That ended badly."

"It could have been much worse," she recalled with a half-snort, half-laugh.

"Aye. I only got _grazed_."

She took another sip. "Come to think of it, in all the time I've known you, _I'm _the one that actually got shot."

"You came out of it just fine."

"Ugly scars, though."

"Yeah well, I've got my fair share, too."

There was a pause while they just stared at each other. He was nowhere near as nervous as she was. Why was that?

Why was she nervous at all?

"Everything seems different here," he mused out loud. His voice sounded strange, thick.

"How do you mean?"

"Away from Charming. The club. All that shite. You're not connected to it anymore. And I don't know why it feels so different now."

"Are you ... uncomfortable being here?"

"Not at all. The opposite, actually. It feels good to be here."

She swallowed hard. "Well … that's good." Christ, that sounded lame. And why the hell was her heart hammering like this?

_Damn _it, Malcolm.

He tilted his head. "Is it okay … me being here?"

She blinked sluggishly, nodding. "Yeah. I'm glad you're here."

He set his glass down and with one fluid motion his hands were cradling her jaw, brushing his lips on hers with the softest pressure.

She didn't back up, didn't pull away. For a half-second she was surprised, but not nearly as surprised as she was when she responded by returning the pressure, catching his lower lip between hers. The scruff of his beard and upper lip teased her. The taste of whiskey and cigarette smoke were foreign but … appealing. She felt warmth pool in her stomach after a moment, and she remembered to set down her drink. As her arm moved away he hooked his own around her back, pulling her closer.

He wasn't that much taller than her. She didn't have to stretch to slide her arms around his shoulders. She just angled herself upward and tilted her head slightly. He licked her upper lip, sending a thrill running through her lower back where his hand held her, his thumb running back and forth just above her hip. It was a nice kiss - a great kiss. A wonderfully soft gesture that seemed to be asking permission.

He tasted different, smelled different, felt entirely different. The newness was exhilarating; it was something she could definitely work with. Chibs leaned back from her just for a moment, his eyes running over her face. He was likely worried she was about to freak out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not sounding like he meant in the least. Nor did he let her go.

"For what?"

"That."

"Why?"

"Taking advantage."

"You're not."

"Are you sure?" She had no answer so she tried to kiss him again, her desire to do it so shocking. He avoided her lips, however. "Val," he began.

"Chibs, it's okay."

"I might be setting us up for a ruined friendship." She closed her eyes, sighing with quite a bit of frustration. "By Christ I want 'ya, though."

Her heart sung at that. Okay, maybe not her heart, maybe a part much lower.

"Please. Just to not feel alone. For a little while." Jesus, was that her voice? The begging sounded like someone else entirely.

"It's because neither of us are at home, right?" he said, planting a controlled kiss on her lips which she tried to extend but he got away from her again.

She nodded. "Everything's different here."

"So different," he agreed, his breathing becoming much rougher. His thumb was still moving on her back and it made her squirm against him. "Christ Val -"

She covered his mouth with hers, and his response was immediate, his tongue aggressively seeking to control her which she fought against, and who knew which of them _won_. It didn't matter.

Valerie grasped him by the hair, he held her waist tightly. Not very gently he ran his hands under her shirt, smoothing rough palms along her skin. He found the scar on her right side, and his hand froze there for a moment.

She didn't care that he was touching her worst scar. It didn't bother her anymore, but his mouth stilled against hers, his breath in her mouth rushed.

He ran fingers along the rough skin which lay under the spine of her bright and colourful dragon tattoo, running from her hip almost all the way up to her underarm. And injury that should have killed her but didn't.

"What's this one from then?" he asked, pulling back and leaning over to look at it.

"That's from the attack that killed my family," she answered, studying his profile as he lifted her shirt to study the markings. It was strange how she could go _hours_ without noticing the scars on his face. She saw them now, and with a finger she traced along the one in front of her. "Scars are horrifying on women," she was muttering. "On men, why are they so …"

He raised his head again and she touched both sides where the scars had torn through tissue and muscle, the cuts likely having extending the sides of his mouth, right through his cheek. "So what?" he asked, voice thick.

"Attractive," she finished.

He swallowed, shaking his head. "They're not."

"They are," she corrected.

"You're mad."

"I mean it."

He wasn't playing with her and she wasn't teasing. His eyes looked … somewhat tortured. She stopped touching his face and wrapped her arms around his neck again, kissing him softly, getting him away from whatever thought had him worried. It worked.

If a person could get drunk on a kiss, it would be one like this. The pull and caress of his tongue had her nearly in a trance, the motion too much like making love. Her skin tingled. Her hands shook. Her knees were going to fail her. And it was all what she wanted.

"All right, all right," he was gasping, pulling back, resting his forehead on hers. "_Jaysus_."

"What's wrong?"

"Christ, nothing's wrong. Believe me. You gotta be sure, Val."

"I'm sure."

"You gotta be the brakes because there's no way I'm thinking of stopping."

Valerie put her hands on the back of his neck. "Okay."

His eyes pegged her in place. "You've gotta be sure," he repeated.

"I'm an adult, Chibs. This is a decision I'm fully capable of making."

"You've gotta be sure," he said it again calm and slow, making her understand something. He wasn't didn't want a roll in the hay to be okay, he wanted to know if she was okay with _him_.

Valerie had to show him she wasn't just seeing a one-nighter as well. He didn't really know how bloody vulnerable she felt right then. So she stepped out of his arms, pulled her shirt off over her head, then paused. "_You've_ gotta be sure, Chibs. I've had a baby."

His eyes were all over her, his gaze sending trace thrills over her skin. "Why the hell should that matter?" His voice was thick again, low.

"It matters because everything about me feels different to me." Christ, now that she was back to thinking she _was _worried. It was ridiculous because her concern wasn't founded in biology at all, yet part of her was honestly terrified it wouldn't even feel good anymore.

"I never saw 'ya like this before, Val. 'Ya look perfect to me."

She swallowed. "Then why are you all the way over there?"

He rushed her again, gathering her up against him, kissing her wildly, catching her by surprise and making her gasp against his lips. It brought her to her toes, just to bring her mouth level with his, to feel more of his upper body against hers. "'Ya feel perfect to me," he whispered against her mouth. She held him tighter.

He backed her away from the dresser, towards the foot of the bed, hitting it with the back of her knees. She didn't fall back. She parted her mouth long enough to grab the hem of his shirt. "Take this off," she gasped, and he was quick to obey.

She ran her hands up over his chest to his shoulders, liking the feel of that warm skin, but she didn't have too much time to revel in it before he was kissing her and gathering her up again, lifting her right off her feet. She habitually wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him climb onto the bed while holding her up, lowering her onto her back.

With warm, deft fingers his hands unclasped her bra behind her, pulling it off her arms. With a guttural groan he closed his mouth over a nipple, his tongue rolling and sucking, making her back bow. She grasped his hair with both hands, making a small sound in the back of her throat.

He didn't waste too much time there. Before she was entirely wild he was undoing her jeans, pulling them off with her underwear. She lamented not having nicer ones on, then she remembered she didn't even _own _nice ones anymore. He didn't care. He drew her knees up, pushed them apart and before she could so much as gasp his name he was on her clit, sucking it between his lips and tonguing it so erratically she knew he had no intention of letting her finish like that. She was writhing and gasping and whimpering his name, not caring. Not thinking.

When he removed his mouth from her and rose to his knees, unbuttoning his fly she had a sane sentence escape. "Please tell me you have something on you."

He smiled. "Of course I do. Never leave home without it."

"Thank Christ."

He was chuckling as he removed his jeans, then went for his coat. In the light from the wall sconce outside the bathroom she watched him move about the room, appreciating the muscles of his back, the way his ass flexed under his skin, the ink that decorated other portions of that skin dark black and harsh. In this reprieve she still didn't take a moment to question this. She felt good right then, she felt attractive. And God knows it was nice to think she hadn't shut down all functions of a _woman_ when she had Mickey.

When he turned back she took in the sight of all of him, smiling as he crossed the room back to her.

"Are you appreciating the view?"

She nodded. "Very much."

"You're a good liar."

"I'm not lying."

He crawled up the bed over her body, licking and nipping at her in various spots, his lips so careful on her scars, almost reverent. On the more tender parts he was more aggressive, ripping cries from her throat again and making her twitch head to foot.

His body lowered onto her and she enjoyed the weight of him, sighing as he brought his mouth down on hers again. She cradled him with her arms and legs, smoothing her hands over every part of him she could reach; chest, back, arms, stomach. When he pushed his hand down between their bodies, stroking at her softly, she pulled it away. He wanted to be thorough; she just wanted him inside her.

He looked startled, stopping the kiss he'd just started.

"Just … please. Do it," she gasped, kissing him again. "I want you."

Not a second of hesitation. He pushed forward with his hips, and her fears about it _not feeling good _were immediately dismissed. She groaned just as he gasped, her entire body revelling in the sensation of holding him inside.

"Valerie," he muttered, burying his face against her neck. Him using her entire name, filtered through that thick accent, ran a shiver through her. She wrapped both hands in his hair, her body tightening as he withdrew with a naughty upward tilt of his hips, dragging his head along her front wall, right over those concentrated nerves, making her cry out.

His arm linked around her lower back, raising her hips up, mashing their bodies together, continuing that slow but consistently perfect and intense motion. Her nails had to dig into his back out of fear he would change something about the position or angle. She could feel the orgasm coming, surprisingly fast, and she knew she was filing the room with cries but she couldn't care.

He was muttering things, his brogue suddenly too thick to understand, or maybe it wasn't entirely North American English. The orgasm, when it arrived, was enough to throw her head back. She shrieked so loud her jaw cracked. Her body tightened head to foot and most intensely inside. Her tremors squeezed him into his own orgasm, a most remarkably masculine bellow filling the silence she eventually left behind.

"Shit," he whispered, breathlessly, rising up onto the arm not holding her by the hips. "I'm sorry. I can do better than that."

She laughed, shaking her head and raising her head to kiss him softly, hands still unable to stop touching his shoulders, chest. "What are you talking about?"

"That wasn't very good."

"You weren't paying attention. Christ, I'm limp."

"Unfortunately I am, too." He withdrew slowly, making her gasp again. "Don't go anywhere," he threatened, out of breath.

"I promise."

He stepped on Peggy when he got out of bed and she yelped, making him jump. "Christ almighty. Was she watching?"

Valerie smiled, pulling the blankets down and tucking underneath them. "Probably. But she doesn't talk."

Peggy trotted after him to the bathroom, and Valerie had to call her back before Chibs shut the door. Peggy returned to her doggy bed, turning in a circle and flopping back down on it.

Valerie stretched in the clean sheets, sighing loudly and staring up at the ceiling. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Her breathing was intense. It was her first chance to _reflect_; she waited for the regret. Waited for the shame. Waited to wish she hadn't just done that. But it didn't come. Her body was relaxed and thoroughly pleasured, her heart thrilled, breath calming, knowing her face was probably flushed, too.

She felt wonderful.

The door swung open again and Chibs joined her in the bed they'd messed up. Natural as anything he raised his arm and she tucked herself to his side, running up and down her upper arm with just the tips of his fingers. For all the comfort her gave her, it felt like they'd been doing this for years now.

"Are you all right?" he eventually asked.

"I'm good. I'm fine. I mean, I feel great."

"Good." Another pause.

"Are you okay?" she flattened her hand on his chest.

He kissed her forehead. "Aye. I'm great now, lass."

She laughed softly, her eyes closing.

"What's so funny?"

"The Scottish words," she mused. "I like it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I had no idea what you were saying. It all just sounded … good."

"It was. I swear it."

She ran her hand back and forth across his chest. "Thank you, Chibs."

"For what?"

"This. I really … I needed this."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Glad I could help. And I liked it, too."

"I don't feel sorry for it."

"That's good. Neither do I."

She raised her head to study his face. "You're sure?"

He pushed her head back down to his shoulder. "Let's just … sleep, Val. You'll have plenty of time later to debate with me."

She smiled, closed her eyes, and slept.

* * *

**As always, reviews and comments welcome.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Val, wake up."

She came out of sleep quickly, heart jumping a bit from the abruptness. She looked up to Chibs' face, blinking rapidly. "What?"

"What time are visiting hours?"

"Nine to two," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"It's eight-thirty."

She frowned, checking the alarm clock. "Oh."

"You go shower. I'll take the dog for a walk around the block or something." He was all business-sounding.

She settled back to the position she'd been sleeping in, half-smiling up at the Scot. "Good morning."

His eyes flicked over her face, worried that she might be regretting the night before, she guessed. "Good morning." His voice was warm and he eventually smiled.

She raised her hand to his cheek, and he held it there with his own. "You okay?" she asked.

He turned his head to kiss her palm. "I'm great, Val. You?"

She nodded. "I'm great. I can't believe I slept this late."

He kissed her lips quickly next. "Go shower."

She nodded, watching him climb out of bed first. He moved about the room picking up his clothes, knowing she was watching him. It didn't bother him. Eventually he laughed. "What are you doing, woman?"

"Nothing. I just like watching you."

He shook his head. "Crazy."

She threw back the covers, noting that he paused before pulling on his jeans to watch her walk to the bathroom. "Who's the crazy one?" she asked.

"You're much better-looking than I am, though."

"I disagree," she quipped, patting his bare ass before locking herself in the bathroom. She got the water running in the shower first, set a towel out next to the tub with the mat on the floor. There was a proper ache between her legs and a certain amount of … distance from her past ghosts.

What she had done the night before set another milestone, she knew. It didn't mean she hadn't loved Tig, and it didn't mean she'd done anything wrong. Comfort was something precious and she'd denied herself it for a while now. Better to find it with someone she trusted, cared about. At least, that's how she felt with the afterglow still working its magic.

She made herself close her eyes, go over the steps that took her to last night. Sleeping with someone was never something she took lightly. Valerie hoped like hell she wasn't just self-soothing. Chibs was … well, _Chibs_. She meant what she'd told him; any woman would be lucky to have him for her own. Having someone kiss her, touch her … she'd been missing that. Having Chibs do it had been unbelievably sweet. She could write last night off to stress and isolation. It would be easy to declare herself a tramp looking for something to make her feel better, and while that might have been true this wasn't a small development. It felt like a really big deal. A really, _really _big deal.

He'd driven from California. Driven three and a half hours to bring her clothes. Sat there waiting for Mickey's surgery to be over. She had no doubt where his mind and heart was, the question was if she was in a state to accept it.

He'd even gotten out right away, giving her space just for this reason. Christ, he was so considerate she almost couldn't fathom it.

The shower felt wonderful, and she couldn't believe Chibs had thought to grab the shampoo and conditioner right out of her shower at home. It may seem silly but she wasn't as home sick using the products she was used to. Again, she doubted he knew how much all of this was _killing _her.

She piled her hair up on her head again, not willing to dry and style it. Even using her own body lotion made her feel more herself.

In the room she pulled on clean underwear and jeans, found her bra and pulled that on before wiggling into a long-sleeve, bright blue Henley. For _some_ reason she wanted to wear a form-fitting shirt today. One that brought out her eyes.

She shoved the teddy bear from the car carrier into her purse, found a book in the suitcase and included that as well. She really didn't think she'd be reading but it never hurt to be prepared. She fully intended on spending every minute at the hospital holding her son and just staring at him.

That was the moment she felt a cold panic hit her chest. That's when she felt guilty remembering the night before. The fact that her son was in the hospital had not once occurred to her while she'd been making love; maybe that had been the reason she was so enthusiastic. She was exhausted from the worry and looking to get away from it.

She sank down on the edge of the bed as tears filled her eyes. Irrationally, she scolded herself for being a terrible mother, for being selfish. She bit her nails into her palms, trying to stop feeling sorry for herself. She was still crying when Chibs returned with the dog, the latter of which came bounding to her, licking at her with cold nose and cold slobber. She smiled down at Peggy, playing with her ears.

"Did you have a good walk?" she asked her. The dog planted on her butt and rolled her head back to look at Chibs.

Who asked immediately, "What's wrong?"

She couldn't look at him. "I don't know."

He sat next to her, leg resting along hers. "Is it me?"

She shook her head, grabbing his hand but still not looking at him. "No. I just suddenly felt guilty because of Mickey."

She could feel him relax slightly. "You feel guilty for not sleeping in the hall and getting in the staff's way all night?"

It made her laugh, wiping her eyes. "Yes."

"Short of being the one to perform surgery you can't do anything anyway. And there's a reason they limit visiting hours. He needs to rest and get better."

His voice was so soft and calming, his accent making it sing-song. She was nodding. "I know all that. It doesn't change anything."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go see him. It'll help."

They walked to the hospital, bundled up in heavy jackets, kicking their way through the half-inch of snow that had fallen the night before. Chibs wasn't complaining about the weather anymore. He just held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

At the hospital they rode the elevator to the third floor in silence, his hand still gripping hers. Outside the ICU they both used the hand sanitizer station before the nurse led them through the doors and past beds that were partitioned off with curtains on rails.

It was incredibly quiet. Only the beeping and hissing of machines could be heard. When the nurse held back part of a curtain to let them into Mickey's little pod of the ICU her relief was a living, breathing thing.

He was awake, his bright blue eyes rolling around the room before noticing her. When he recognized her she thought she might faint. She may have had tears in her eyes but he was smiling, bubbles in his drool, his legs and feet working like mad. She leaned over the rail, hand on his head while she covered his face in kisses. When she backed off she rubbed his belly, making him laugh.

There was no better sound in the entire world.

"Here's another seat," the nurse said, returning with a stacking chair for Chibs. He looked uncomfortable to be included but he mumbled his thanks.

"You can pick him up," the nurse offered. "Just watch the leads. And make sure you pick him up like a newborn. His stitches are at the front but it'll be a few days before you should lift him up under his arms."

"He was easier to pick up like this as a newborn," she mused, winding her arm under him and lifting, gathering him up against her chest. The wires leading out of his sleeper were terrifying but she knew they were just monitoring his heartbeat.

He sighed as he rolled against her breast, his little hands grabbing onto her, eyes never leaving her face as he kicked.

"He's been pretty docile. He must be happy to see mom," the nurse said warmly.

"Hey handsome," she greeted him, his eyes locked on hers. "Oh sweetheart, I missed you too."

Chibs guided her to the armchair behind her and as she sat he grabbed the pillow off the bed, folding it and putting it on her lap to help her hold Mickey.

"Thank you," she said, sparing him a quick glance. It did her heart good to see him smiling, too. "What's Uncle Chibs smiling at?"

He dropped his eyes from hers to Mickey, crouching in front of her. He put his hand on Mickey's head and those bright blue eyes moved from her to Chibs, growing wide and staring.

"He looks so much bigger already," Chibs wondered aloud. At the sound of his voice Mickey reached a chubby hand out to grab at his beard.

"Mickey," she laughed, reaching for his hand.

"It's all right. One day he'll grow a decent beard and mustache himself." He leaned in closer. "Hopefully it's not as ugly as your Da's was, though."

"Hey," Valerie scolded, jokingly. "I liked that beard and mustache."

He raised an eyebrow, ignoring her. "Then when you're older I'll tell 'ya why your Ma likes mustaches so much."

She kicked at him. "Don't even joke about that."

He was laughing, standing up again and pulling the stacking chair closer. She went back to contemplating her son, who was staring up at her, his feet kicking again.

"Jesus, Mickey. Just rest my boy," she suggested. "You can kick me all you want later."

He babbled at her.

"I know. You're bored. I'm sorry."

It fell quiet. For the first time in months her son was content to just be held, cuddled and coddled. That's how she knew he wasn't feeling quite himself, not just yet. When he began to doze off she looked up to catch Chibs still smiling at her.

"What?" she repeated quietly.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just … you probably don't even know how beautiful you look right now."

She blushed, looking back at the bundle she had huddled against her chest. Then she looked back up. "Thank you," she returned.

"He makes you happy."

"He does. He's the most important thing to me." She dropped her eyes back down to his sleeping face, unable to stop smiling. "I didn't know it was possible to love someone so immediately. But the second I held him and he opened those eyes … how could I not?"

He leaned forward on his knees. "Yeah. They do that to 'ya, that's for sure."

"You have a daughter, right?"

He nodded. "Kerrianne."

It wasn't just the music of how that name sounded on his voice, it was the _way _he said it too. She really meant it when she said "That's a beautiful name."

"It was my Ma's. I was terrified of the day she'd arrive and then she was there and … instant love." His voice sounded so sad, even with what he was saying.

"You don't see her much?"

"She's with her Ma in Ireland. I had hoped they would move back here but … she didn't want to leave her school. The last time I saw her I couldn't believe how much she'd grown up. I missed a lot."

"Can I ask why they're in Ireland?"

He stared down at his hands. "I wasn't a great husband. My wife took up with someone else, a real prick bastard. When she realized what he was she was too scared to leave."

Valerie tightened her grip on her son without realizing it. "That's horrible."

Chibs raised his eyes to hers. "He's not a concern anymore."

A chill ran down her back. "Really."

He just nodded calmly, eyes somewhere far away as his hand rose absently to touch his face.

"He's the one that did that to you. That cut you." she guessed.

He dropped his hand immediately. "Yeah, he was."

She loosened her hold on Mickey, and he stirred in his sleep a bit, sighing.

"Mothers always get the importance of the little'uns. We're so dense sometimes. You don't think it matters if you're around, then you're an old fart and they can't stand 'ya, and _that's _when you want to take an interest."

She smiled at him sadly.

"I saw Kerrianne … must have been almost three years ago now. I honestly didn't recognize her. She was a woman. She was sixteen and if I was a bartender I wouldn't have ID'd her. Now … who knows." He fished in his pocket, pulling out a wallet, flipping through it and holding a square out to her. She reached out and took it, seeing a young girl with huge dark eyes, darker skin, and an adorable mop of curly dark hair. "That's the only photo I have. I didn't get one of her the last time."

Valerie had to smile. "She's gorgeous." She held it out to him again.

"She looks so much like her Ma. As she gets olderit's scary how much she looks like her." He stared at the photo. "She was four here. That's about the time her Ma left. I was inside then. She sent me this in a letter."

Valerie watched his face. She felt she knew _him_ quite well, but she didn't know a lot _about _him. This was a whole new side.

When she looked down at her treasure drifting off she tried to imagine if Tig would have been around for good, or if eventually he would have been the same as Chibs. In and out of prison, or even worse; growing tired of her after a while. Resenting her. When Mickey came along would he have been thrilled? She wasn't glad not to know. She would have rather taken the risk of making him miserable.

_I wish I had time to get sick of you. _Tig had said that to her as he was dying. She felt exactly the same way.

She looked up again to catch Chibs still staring at the photo of his daughter. Something stirred in her chest again, dangerously close to real romantic affection. Her biggest weakness was a tough guy with a soft spot. It was hardly a unique trait for a woman with any part of a functioning biology, but her definition of _tough _was a bit more intense than others.

"You should still try to get hold of her. Even if it's just emails or a short phone call every now and then. It's something to build on. Before you're, you know, an old fart," she suggested gently.

He grinned at her, tucking the photo away again. "Too late for that."

They stared at each other for a little while, comfortable in silence now. Then he stood.

"I'll leave you with him for a while. I'll go take a shower. Check on the dog again. You just … enjoy him." His eyes actually twinkled when he said it, brushing his hand over Mickey's peach-fuzzed head again.

"Okay," she agreed, closing her eyes as he kissed her cheek.

"I won't be long."

They shared another smile before he left, then she and Mickey were on their own in the incredibly quiet hospital ward, the sounds of the machines around them coming back to her. Honestly, she could stare at him all day just sleeping like this.

The curtain was pulled back and the nurse returned, offering her another warm smile and holding a bottle in one hand. "Feeding time. We're kinda busy today - would you like to do it?"

Valerie smiled. "Nice one. Making me think I'm doing you a favour."

The nurse's smile got wider when she laughed. "You'd be surprised how many people think we're babysitters, too." She offered the bottle, which Valerie took, and then she put a towel over her left shoulder, too. "Just remember to watch where his stitches are," she said softly, rubbing Mickey's head before she left.

"Hey, monkey. Time to eat something." She kissed his forehead, breathing the baby smell in, smiling when he stirred and blinked up at her. Then he saw the bottle and both hands immediately shot out for it. "Okay, okay." He was on the rubber nipple before his eyes cleared, taking big pulls and gulping like a fish. "Slow, slower." She pulled it away and he kicked his feet again. "Slow down. Take your time." She brought it back and it was like he had understood her after all.

His eyes were on hers as he drank, bright, blue and huge. His baby skin was translucent, all the veins showing slightly underneath. Delicate to the point of being scary, really. Yet they'd operated on his heart and here he was, just fine.

"You can't leave me," she whispered to him as he finished his breakfast, eyes not moving from hers. "I can get through a lot but you can't leave."

He blinked. She assumed that meant he was promising to stick around.

When the bottle was drained she managed to maneuver him to her shoulder, holding him upright, chest against hers, rubbing his back. Before her legs fell asleep she stood up, sticking close to the bed because of the wires but shifting her weight from one leg to the other, bouncing him up and down just a bit. He'd always thought that was funny, and the laughing usually meant he burped no problem.

When the baby chuckles started she couldn't help but join in. It egged Mickey on. With one impressive belch the air was out and he was fine.

"There you go again. Making daddy proud." She kissed his cheek, then set him back on the mattress to shake her arm out. "You're heavier than you used to be, handsome." He held his arms out again, kicking his feet like mad. "I know, I know. I'll pick you up again in a minute. I promise."

She scratched her nails lightly on the tummy of his sleeper, making him laugh more. She tossed the burping cloth over the foot of the bed and placated herself by petting him. He wiggled and laughed the whole time. He was loud, the loudest patient in the entire ICU, actually. But once she got him going she couldn't bring herself to shush him.

She became aware she was not alone. Val looked up to see someone peeking through the parted curtains, an older woman in a robe pulled closed over a hospital gown. She was smiling, watching Valerie and Mickey silently. When Valerie saw her the woman's smile faltered a bit.

"Sorry," the woman said, shaking her head. "I didn't know there was a baby in here until I heard the laughing."

Valerie looked back at Mickey. "Sorry, I know he's loud but I just wanted to hear him laugh -"

"No, no. Don't apologize. Please." She stepped forward and stopped. "Oh – may I?"

Valerie nodded. "Please. I'm Val."

She shook the pale hand that was wrapped in paper-thin and almost gray-coloured skin. There were many bruises under that skin and Val knew she must be quite ill. "Melinda," the woman said softly, her eyes on Mickey.

"This is my son, Mickey."

She stayed at the foot of the bed, hands on the rails. "What a beautiful baby."

Valerie had to grin with pride. "He is. A duct between his heart and lungs didn't close on its own all the way. So he had that fixed."

"He sounds healthy now."

Mickey was staring down over his belly at this new person, kicking his feet as the chuckles started to fade.

"I hope so," Val said almost to herself.

"They should record that laugh and play it through the speakers. Made me feel better already." With a sad smile the woman turned and left.

Valerie watched the spot in the curtain where she'd disappeared. She turned back to her son, pulling him into her arms. "You hear that?" she whispered, arranging herself back in the chair with the pillow helping prop her arm up again. "You're going to be a doctor."

* * *

**As always, your comments and reviews are welcome, appreciated, and giggled over.**


	6. Chapter 6

Valerie was once again watching her son fall asleep when Chibs returned. "Oh good," she said, standing. "Can you take him for a second? I have to go to the bathroom."

"Well, you just had to put him down, Mother," he scolded, coming forward while shrugging out of his coat then holding his arms out.

"I know. But I couldn't. He's being quite the suck today." She rolled the little body from her arms to his, adjusting the wires once the transfer had been made.

"That's because he knows his mum is a soft touch. Just try that shite with Uncle Chibs 'ya wee bugger." His accent was twice as thick in baby-talk mode.

She patted his elbow and went wandering, looking for a washroom. Feeling much better she hurried back to intensive care. She hadn't shut the curtain when she left and now she hung back, watching her son babble away, giggle, laugh, throw his arms and legs around while Chibs talked to him. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but Mickey was loudly agreeing and enjoying all the jokes apparently.

Watching them, she felt the tears rise in her eyes again. Honest to Christ, until this episode with Mickey she'd been solid and set with every decision she'd ever made and never once doubted that she was setting them both up for a better life.

Now she questioned it all, just because a man had walked back into her world who knew her well and wanted to help her without being asked.

That heart flutter happened again, but she doubted it could be trusted. She was distraught, stressed. She may as well be drunk for all her reactions could be understood and depended on.

Chibs caught her lurking, his smile faltering as he frowned. _You okay? _he mouthed.

She wiped at her eyes, stepping through the curtain. "I'm good," she said. "Just another … _moment._" She even had to sniffle a bit. "You want me to take him?"

"Rest your arms another minute. He weighs as much as me, I'm sure."

Since he remained standing she sat in the arm chair again, content to watch him bounce her son up and down in his arms. Mickey kept babbling at him but Chibs was watching her.

"What?" she asked, self-conscious.

"Worried about you, that's all."

She shook her head. "No, I'm just … trying to be relieved he's okay." She held her arms up. "Okay, give him back."

He nodded to the bed. "Get the pillow ready first."

She did, then he passed Mickey back to her waiting embrace. Chibs crouched down at her feet, hands resting on her knees. "You're going to sit here until two? You're not hungry at all?"

She shook her head. "I'll eat when they kick me out. This is plenty for me right now." When he didn't answer or move she looked up, catching him still staring at her. "What?" she repeated with a nervous laugh.

He shook his head absently, then leaned across Mickey to plant his lips on hers. Nothing big, just a barely-there brush of the mouth. He held his face just inches from hers, and she found herself unable to look away from his eyes. Then he kissed her again, harder, closing her eyes and making her legs squirm even though she _was_ trying to control her reaction. She might have even whimpered a bit.

It certainly wasn't a _let me take your mind off your troubles_ kind of kiss, that was for sure. That's what the night before had been. This was so much sweeter and far more loaded with permanent implications. He leaned away slowly, exhaling, obviously worried about her reaction.

Valerie found herself smiling. "What was that for?"

"Felt like it. Making sure that last night actually happened. Because this feels really comfortable and … normal."

"It does, doesn't it?"

The eye contact was incredibly comfortable, too. She tried to remember the last time she felt this stillness, this contentment. This … _calm_.

He stood up abruptly, returning to the stacking chair. "Well, you've got two more hours to stare at him. Then I'm making you eat lunch."

"Okay."

…

It passed far too quickly for her liking. When the nurse came in with a bottle saying visiting hours were up in half an hour Valerie nearly lost it again. She fed Mickey one more time, and at two o'clock she had to let Chibs hand him over to the nurse just because she didn't want to be there when Mickey started crying.

It didn't matter. She was almost out of Intensive Care but that loud wailing reached her, making every hair on her head and arms stand up, every instinct wanting to go running back to hold him.

She was stopped at the door, sobbing like a complete mess, covering her mouth so she wouldn't disturb everyone, and when hands took her by the shoulders and guided her out of the ward she knew who it was. In the hallway Chibs stopped and wrapped her up in a hug, letting her cry, sniffle, and pretty much soak the front of his hoodie.

He was rubbing her back, muttering things like "I know, Val. I'm sorry. He's fine, he really is." When she had herself under control and stepped back she was surprised to notice that his eyes were red, too. She frowned.

"Chibs, are you cry -"

"Nah, it's fine. But … Christ, that is pretty hard to walk away from him like that. He's so small."

She nodded. "I know," it made her face crumble again, and he half-laughed, hugging her again.

"You're setting me off again, stop it."

"Sorry," she apologized just as her phone went off. "Shit." She was sniffing and wiping her eyes as she dug the phone out of her purse. "Hello?"

"Val? It's Peter. Bad time?"

She sniffed. "No, no it's not. Hi Peter."

"I just noticed you called yesterday. What's up?"

"Oh. That's right. Ummm … I'm at the hospital in Prince Rupert."

"What? Why?"

"We're okay. We're both fine. Mickey had to go in for surgery yesterday."

"Oh good God – is he okay?" Val smiled at her brother's obvious concern.

She explained the condition and the operation, finishing up by telling him that the doctors expect him to fully recover. "He's a tough little monkey, that one," she wrapped up with.

"Yeah, well, I remember his dad."

Valerie shook her head at that. If only Peter knew the shit _she'd_ gone through the past two years. But she wasn't getting into that now.

"So, that's why I called. I've been here … four days now? Five? I have no fucking idea."

"Should I come see you?"

Her reaction was strange but she didn't question it. "No, it's fine. You've got your daughter, stay home with her." Yesterday she would have told him yes.

"Surely you'd like company, Val."

"I've got a friend here. It's fine. You can come see him when he's finally home."

If Chibs took exception to the _friend_ moniker it didn't show.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I just wanted you to know where I was. And I didn't want to call anyone until he came through the surgery."

"Well, give him a big hug for me, okay?"

"Okay."

"And take care, Val. Try to rest. You sound ready to fall asleep."

"I am. It's been stressful."

"I'll bet. I'll let you go. If you need anything you call me, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks Peter."

"Love 'ya, little girl."

"Love you, too." She disconnected the call with a smile.

"Your half-brother?" Chibs prompted.

"Yeah. I called to update him yesterday but he wasn't home."

"I'm glad you made up with him," he admitted. Then he took her hand. "Let's go." Valerie naturally fell into step beside him as he led the way though the hospital's corridors.

It was snowing again as they walked; big, fat fluffy flakes that felt more like rain. It had warmed during the day and the sidewalks were slushy. They were definitely hurrying to get inside. On this stroll the wind was cold and the dampness miserable.

At the motel they found the phone book in the bedside table. They agreed on ordering a pizza, which Chibs called in using the motel room's land line. Val supervised another outside visit for Peggy, rushing her back inside as soon as she was done making her puddle in the snow.

She shed her damp jacket, then dug in her suitcase for a sweatshirt, the chill from outside not abating even with the room's heater running on high. Peggy recognized the best spot in the room and curled up right in front of the vent. Valerie joined Chibs at the window as he watched the snowfall.

"It's prettier from in here," she mused.

"It's fucking _cold _is what it is."

She shook her head, laughing. "Well, if you're that _fucking_ miserable, go home." She risked a sideways glance at him, noticing he was smiling, too.

"Nah, there's plenty to stay here for," he said, surprising her by grabbing her around the waist, pulling her to him. He didn't kiss her though; he just gazed down at her, pushing a damp strand of wayward hair behind her ear.

Valerie let him look at her, taking her time to appreciate the sharpness in those eyes, the threat of humour in his lips. She knew there were "pretty" men out there, but nothing gave her shivers like a face with depth and character. She found that more attractive than anything else.

When he _did _kiss her, there was no moment to wonder if it was still a good idea. She responded, tilting her head, wrapping her arms tight around his neck, letting his tongue dip into her mouth and greeting it with her own. His hands were like clamps on her hips, but that wasn't the reason she wasn't going anywhere.

"Are 'ya tired?" he pulled away to ask, voice low, soft and private in a way that made her skin tingle.

"No," she answered, kissing him again. "But how long until the delivery guy comes?"

"Shit," was his answer, kissing her so deeply it bent her backwards slightly.

"We could make out like we're in high school," she suggested, pulling back to run a hand up his neck to his cheek.

"Over the clothes?"

"Of course."

"I'd put up with that for maybe two minutes."

"But -" she giggled as he cut her off with another kiss, spinning her back towards the bed.

"I got an idea to kill a few minutes," he growled, everything in his voice warming her somewhere very far south.

"Shut the blinds," she whispered against his lips, and he spun around immediately to comply. As he turned away she pulled the sweatshirt off, definitely not cold anymore.

Chibs descended on her like the world was ending in twenty minutes. He yanked his shirt off, then immediately went for the fly of her jeans. She pulled off her top, undid the bra and tossed it, earning a groan of appreciation. It distracted him and he palmed both breasts, working his mouth on hers once again. She tried to go for his zipper but he held his hips back, bringing his head up to grin at her.

"Easy," he drawled. "Don't be so eager."

She complacently waited for him to slide her jeans down her legs, dropping to his haunches before her, and as she stepped out of her pant legs he caught her thighs in his hands while they were spread, bringing his mouth close and licking at her cleft.

Valerie moaned, grabbing his shoulders with her nails to stay upright. _This_ was the best way to pass time? She could agree with that.

It was just a tease. He pushed back on her hips, urging her onto the freshly-made bed, and she yanked the blankets out of the way. Her skin was covered in goose bumps and her nipples hurt from how hard they were, but the temperature wasn't really to blame for either of those.

"Cold?" he asked, kissing her stomach, his breath hot on her skin, bowing her back as his beard tickled her.

"No," she gasped, spearing her hands into his hair. "Oh God, that feels good."

He kept nibbling at her, pressing kisses here and there, that facial hair driving her mad. The ache between her legs had been sudden and the more he teased her like this the more she writhed under him.

"It's here hot and ready to eat in twenty minutes," he was saying, lips brushing against her as he spoke. "Is that enough time? Can I make 'ya come in twenty minutes?"

She wasn't able to answer, his hand making a pass over one breast, barely touching the nipple. She made a sound of frustration and he chuckled.

"Maybe twice in twenty minutes?"

"Chibs," she whispered, "stop talking about it and do it, you bastard."

The chuckle came again, but he dragged his mouth downwards anyway, pulled her knees up, then slid his hands between them, down her thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh forcefully. She whimpered, content with what she could see of him in the light coming around the curtains. The room was cast golden and dim, and the sight of him shirtless, lowering himself between her legs had her holding her breath.

His mouth fell on her inner thigh next, and the grunt she made was pure audible frustration. When he laughed the very sound tickled her, made her roll her hips. He was going to torture her first. Her skin pinched between his teeth, and she knew she was making noises only because Peggy suddenly barked from her corner.

Valerie couldn't help but laugh, and Chibs snarled a gruff, "I got this, bitch, no help needed."

Her giggling stopped when his mouth met skin hot and sensitive, and this time she bit her lip instead of crying out, her legs tensing under his hands. His tongue closed over her clit completely, barely moving, just enough to be sweet but terribly frustrating at the same time. She tried to move her hips to encourage rougher treatment but he held her in place.

Valerie closed her eyes, feeling the pressure coiling in her belly. That consistent rhythm was killing her, yet she knew if she just waited it out it would lead to something explosive and pleasant and perfect. So she did. Her breathing became ragged, she stopped squirming, and she let her whimpers escape in time with his movements. He must have sensed it in her; her legs were curling around him, she fisted the sheets around her, her whimpers turned into his name. She was nearly at the crest when he sealed his mouth around her, suddenly sucking and tonguing her aggressively. The change was shocking, yet she felt herself come completely undone in an instant.

The orgasm tore through her like lightning, hot in her blood, through her veins. Her hips bucked, but her held her in place as she loudly pronounced how completely satiated she was with a keening wail that seemed unending. He didn't let up. He showed her no mercy, this time releasing her hips to work her nipples between his thumbs and fingers as his tongue continued its dominance.

Her hips were free to move. She had one leg over his shoulder, moving against his mouth, her heart rate nowhere near normal as another peak built within her. He was moaning too, the vibration of it another layer to the arousal. This one threw her back, mouth open and gasping, no sounds coming out. She trembled head to foot, an attack of pleasure that took forever to pass through her, like a wave in a pool hitting a wall and rolling back the other direction again.

Chibs was kissing the soft skin of her thighs now, and when she was more or less composed she languidly cast her eyes down towards him, catching him watching her with a hell of a twinkle in his eye and a grin that made her warm again, like she _hadn't _had two amazing, memoir-worthy orgasms just moments before.

"Chibs," she whispered, throat dry, not even sure what she intended to tell him.

She saw more than _felt _him rise back up onto hands and knees, crawling up over her, his eyes making a hot and heady trail on her skin as he did it. He kissed her and she could taste herself on his lips. She clamped her hands to each side of his head, pulling him down roughly. He chuckled into her mouth, letting his weight fall onto her.

"Valerie," he said softly, tucking his face to her neck, kissing along her throat.

"Yes?"

"That was less than twenty minutes."

She laughed out, "Was it?" before stopping with a surprised gasp as he lowered his lips onto her breast, rolling her nipple in his mouth slowly and devastatingly gentle.

"Although with the show you just put on, it might only take me a couple minutes myself."

She was about to answer when there was a knock at the door, and he bolted upright immediately. "Holy shit – they're early."

She couldn't stop giggling as the knock sent Peggy into a fit of barking. She was shushing the dog, he was throwing the blankets and sheets over her.

"Do you have money?" she was asking. "Peggy – shut up!"

"Yeah, I've got money."

"Canadian money?"

"Shit."

She directed him to her wallet, the silliness of the entire situation lightening the atmosphere. She stayed hidden from view, the door was opened, dog was placated that they weren't in danger of being attacked, and the pizza was paid for and handed over. By the time she heard the door shut Chibs was laughing too. She uncovered her head in time to see him drop the food on the table before joining her in bed again.

"It'll get cold," she said as he slid alongside her, icy hands searching for her skin.

"I don't intend to let it, don't worry," he growled, touching between her legs again.

"Wasn't what I was talking about Chibs -"

"Call me Fillip, Val. Please."

She undid his fly, nodding. "Fillip."

He helped her get rid of the rest of his clothes, and with a natural ease she was on her back again, letting him slide into her slowly, the frantic edge diminished now. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, but his hands slid up her sides, her arms, forcing them up over her head, pinning them against the bed as she worked her hips against the motion of his.

"Valerie," he whispered against the skin of her collarbone. "This is perfect."

She answered with a moan as he licked the hollow of her throat. "Perfect," she agreed, breathless. "Christ, that's so perfect, Fillip."

She was wide open and vulnerable, and he reminded her of that by easing out of her to suckle and tease her nipples, press kisses all over her until she was ridiculously sensitive, then moving his hips to hers again. He did this time and time again, not letting her adjust her position, working her into a frenzy like he had before.

There was a sheen of sweat over every inch of her skin from the strain of his perpetual teasing. She had resolved not to beg, but she apparently _did _have a breaking point.

"Please," she was gasping. "Fillip, please let me finish."

His face came back to hers to kiss her again. "You've had enough?"

"Christ, I'm burning up."

"Turn over."

He backed off of her and without question she rolled to her stomach, about to raise herself up on all fours. He pushed her back down to her stomach, hand on her lower back.

"Like this," he said huskily, hands easing her hips up slightly.

She closed her eyes, shivering. This had always been one of her favourite positions.

His hand ran over her skin above her right hip, and she knew what he was touching. That was where her crow was, its bright blue eye the only colour in the whole piece.

Valerie looked back over her shoulder, worried he was changing his mind at the sight of that ink. He was staring at it yes, but when he caught her eye he moved his knees outwards, forcing her legs further apart.

She wrapped her arms around her pillow, closing her eyes again. His hands came down to each side of her waist and with one forceful snap of his hips he drove into her, filling her, making her cry out, the pillow muffling the sound. Three more thrusts and she was climaxing violently, her body tightening and almost forcing him out. He followed closely, his grunts echoing in the room, trailing off as he collapsed onto her back.

He was panting, sweaty, moaning lovely things to her again, making her smile even if he couldn't see it. When he had his sense back he climbed out of bed, almost stumbling to the washroom.

Valerie stayed as she was, her body still absorbing all the fantastic sensations that come with amazing love-making. The night before had been really good sex. This … was more than that.

The bathroom door opened again and he crossed the room, eyes on her as she was watching him cross the floor. He grabbed the pizza box off the table, climbing back into bed.

"I'm starving now," he muttered, and she collapsed into laughter again, rolling onto her back as he opened the greasy box, setting it down on the bedcover at their feet.

"Me too," she sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest. "Are we really eating pizza in bed?"

"Why not?" His eyes sparkled as he tossed her a napkin. "Eat up, Val. You need your strength."


	7. Chapter 7

"Did 'ya know 'ya were having a boy?"

"Yes," Val replied sleepily, lulled calm by the way his fingers drew circles on her hip. "I was in for a sonogram and … couldn't help but notice."

"So he's Tig's son in more ways than one then," Chibs chuckled and she poked him in the side.

After destroying the pizza they'd had another round of each other, then collapsed to this post-coital state of just randomly asking questions, filling in the gap of the past year and change they'd been apart. It was important for her to note that talking about Tig wasn't uncomfortable for either of them.

It was her turn. "Have you been in touch with Teresa?"

He laughed then. "Yes, I see her quite often."

"Really. Why is that so funny?"

"She's working at Teller-Morrow."

Val rose up to one elbow. "What?" He smiled at her, eyes dropping down to where her breasts came out from under the sheet. She tilted his chip up. "Teresa? At the garage?"

"Gemma's not there. We needed someone to organize the office. She's a fussy thing, she was perfect."

She shook her head. "I can't imagine it. I'm honestly … shocked."

"That's not the biggest shock. I think our dear Juice has taken a real shine to her."

"You're kidding."

"Not at all. They can't keep their hands off each other. It's disgusting. They're even living together."

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "You're full of shit."

"I'm not! Hand to God, Teresa is banging Juice and working at the garage."

"Holy shit."

"He's apparently banged her proper enough to knock the stick out of her ass."

"That's far enough," Valerie begged, settling back against his side, scratching her nails through his small patch of chest hair. "I don't want to know anything else."

There was quiet again, then it was his turn again. "Why didn't you just tell us about the money, Val?"

She froze, hand mid-swirl, an icy coldness washing down her chest. "What?" she more whispered then asked.

He struggled to turn and look down on her, so she backed off, yanked the sheet up and rose up on her elbow at the same time he did. Her heart started beating fast.

"Val, no orphan gets a degree without student loans, buys a house, and leaves it with seventy percent of the mortgage paid after living there less than two years." His voice was gentle, but she was going into full-fledged panic.

"I … I …"

"You can't lie, it's obvious, Val. Did you not trust us? Did you think we'd turn you in if things went south?"

She took a deep breath. "Shit," she finally just said.

He smiled. "They didn't send me here to kill you, love. Just tell me why."

"You guys knew everything _else_. It was obviously part of my escape plan."

He nodded. "You _did _think we'd turn you in."

"At that time … the time I left, I was sure everyone hated me. I wasn't saying anything _then_. I would have told Tig eventually. But no, I wouldn't tell the club."

He nodded. "I understand that."

She turned and sat up, pulling her knees up and covering her face. "Fuck. Now I'm just … ashamed."

"You're right, Val. It's your own business. But knowing would have been handy when the Popovs came back."

She faced him again. "What?"

"Shortly after you left, they came back. One of your mother's cousins … Viktor. He came to your house when Teresa was there alone. We got there in time, nothing happened to her. But … I killed him. I beat him to death in the garage without the blessing of the club."

"Why?"

He sat up and moved closer, hand on her back. "Why do you think?"

She searched his face, the way he was staring at her. "They wanted _me_?" He nodded. Her next breath shook. "And _you _killed him?"

"I beat him until my hands went numb. Then I crushed his head against the floor."

She closed her eyes, covering her head again. "Oh no," she moaned.

"They haven't come looking for him. He was there on his own, trying to be a hero."

"Chibs, was Jax -"

"Pissed? Aye. But I wouldn't take back what I did. He was saying terrible things about 'ya. I … lost it. I don't usually go into a bloodlust but that bastard deserved it."

"Now they're really going to be looking for me," she mumbled, eyes staring at the wall.

"They're not getting to 'ya."

She shook her head. "I'm not going back to Charming Chibs, I can't. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

"They'll come after _us_ first. They know you've taken off."

She smiled at him sadly, pressing her hand to his cheek. "If I get you hurt -"

"Fuck it. Don't worry about me. I'll step in front of bullets to keep you and Mickey safe."

"Chibs -"

"It doesn't matter to me if this is it, Val. If this is the only time I get to be with you like this. I'm going to protect you, anyway I can. I swear it."

"You're hours away."

"Then come back," his voice was pleading and he was man enough not to care. "Just come back. Move back into your house, live with me. I don't care. Just … come back. Then I'll know you're okay."

She bit her lip against the tears in her eyes. "I don't know what this is, but I don't deserve it."

"Bullshit. You deserve a lot better but I want you with me all the same." He grabbed her with both hands, kissing her soft and sweet. "Christ Val, I'd give anything to be the one that saw 'ya first."

That _did _make her cry, but then he was kissing her again, his hands smoothing over her shoulders, her arms, moulding her against him, pulling her down onto him. He wrapped her up tightly, rubbing her arms, kissing the top of her head, cradling her.

"I didn't want to come here and do this to 'ya," he muttered. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, the kid was okay, and just leave 'ya be."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's my own fault. I've spend the last year just … imagining that if I saw you again it'd be like this. And it's better than I'd hoped. But at the same time … I'm fucking terrified."

"Of what?"

"Fucking it up."

"How?"

"Pushing too hard, too fast."

She rose up on one elbow again, her hand to his cheek. "You care about me." A statement of fact, not a question.

He nodded, eyes fluttering away from her as they watered up. "Christ Val, I'm all but in love with 'ya."

She bit her lip. "I'm not there yet, Chibs."

"I know. But if I didn't tell 'ya that's where my head was, 'ya might think this is all I wanted 'ya for. And it's not."

"You keep talking like this and I'll get there eventually," she warned.

His hand tightened around her back and he brought his eyes back to hers. "You're in love with my friend. And if I could I'd bring him back just to keep 'ya happy. But I can't. If he knew about this he'd find a way to kill me, I know it. That thought is more than giving me guilt and yet at the same time …" he didn't finish. He pulled her down for a kiss, and she didn't fight him on it.

"This isn't our normal circumstance," she whispered into his mouth, pulling back. "This is a strange place, under emotional duress. For me, anyway. I like being like this with you. I just trust you, Fillip. I've always liked you. You made me laugh. You took care of me when Tig couldn't." His hand gripped her tighter. "And you're doing it again. Of all the people that could have come flying to my rescue, I'd want you to be the one doing it."

"Me or Tig." A statement, not a question.

Her lip quivered. "Tig's dead, honey. I loved him, so much. But that isn't bringing him back. I feel more like my old self right here and now with you than I have in over a year. I have no idea if it'll last. But I do want to enjoy it."

"Okay," he agreed. "But if I don't have a chance, you've gotta let me know."

"I will," she promised, and he kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, soulfully. With slow, caring hands he rolled her to her back, easing onto her, lips slowly melting her, tongue warming her blood, her skin. He worked her over with hands and mouth, as though memorizing her inch by inch. She was happy to return the favour, tracing and kissing every scar as he did the same to her. Every stroke, taste, gasp was infinitely sad, yet sweeter than anything she'd ever known for the same reason.

He was mumbling in Gaelic again, the only thing she understood was "Valerie." He said it a lot. Again, with the accent, her own name made her shiver, clutching his shoulders with her nails. She was sweating and panting like they'd been at it for hours, but they'd hardly moved. It all touches and kisses.

When he finally _did _settle between her legs, hitching his arm around her lower back again and joining them together, she actually _sighed _loudly. He gasped, mouth pressed to her neck, her name escaping on a grunt. He kept up that wicked hip roll, but the pace was slow and even. Perfect.

As the pressure began to build she pulled her mouth back to stare into his eyes. Valerie kept one hand on the side of his neck, the other holding his lower back tightly. His gaze was intense, his eyes catching every nuance of her expression. Like her, his breathing was laboured, the decision to stop kissing coming about because they needed to breathe.

It was so private, so close like this. She couldn't miss the tenderness in his face, the caring, the … love. She had to give him something back. She didn't feel like she'd contributed nearly enough.

The orgasm rode over her gently, softly, but it kept going and going, like she couldn't finish until he did. And he did. As he tensed, she grasped him hard, her body clenched around him, crying out "Fillip," just as he gasped her name, making it sing.

They trembled, wound around each other, skin slick, rasping each breath. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, her hands played with his hair.

"Fillip," she whispered.

"Yeah." He didn't move. She didn't want him to.

"Don't give up on me. You've always had a chance with me."

He rose up on his elbows, one outside each of her shoulders, holding her face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over her jaw. "I'm not giving up," he replied with a smile. "I'll wait as long as you want me to. I'm not too proud to be a sap."

"You'll never be a sap," she insisted, smiling.

"I am," he assured her. "But Jesus, the sex makes it worth it."

…

They made love again the next morning, in the shower, quietly, quickly but intensely, then soaped each other up and rinsed off with much playful caressing and laughter. They even fought over the hair dryer.

At the hospital they were greeted by the same nurse as the day before. She smiled in that warm nursing way, wished them good morning and led the way back to her son's bed.

He was awake, of course. At the sight of her, he started babbling and working his arms and legs around, looking like a turtle trying to roll over.

"Settle down, handsome," she cooed, rubbing his belly and starting that laugh again. With more confidence she scooped him up right away, making his grin spread wider. "There he is," she smiled. "There's my heartbreaker." He looked more himself, more alert. He was trying to talk again.

"He's all worked up," Chibs observed. "Look at him."

"This is what he's usually like now. He's going to wear me out when he's walking on his own."

"You wanna sit?"

"Nah, not yet." She made eyes at Mickey, jogging him up and down in her arms.

Chibs stood next to her, smiling down at her son, one hand in his pocket, the other brushing Mickey's hair back and forth. Once Mickey had assured himself Mom was sticking around his eyes swung up to Chibs, eyes getting wider and his smile going to ridiculous levels.

Chibs had to chuckle. "This is a happy kid. Christ, it's almost embarrassing."

"He loves new people," she explained. She smiled at Chibs. "You want to hold him?"

"Once mom gets her fix I'll take over." He kissed her temple, tucked her to his hips and chest, gazing down at Mickey over her shoulder. Mickey followed him, hypnotized.

"He's in love with you," she surmised.

"He's smart that way. Uncle Chibs is going to take him to his first hooker."

"Why do you have to make such terrifying jokes?"

"To get you worked up and laughing."

She stared at her unsullied and perfectly innocent child, knowing that this group of bikers was going to completely ruin him. But they'd also protect him, accept him no matter what, and make sure he always had a home.

Jesus, she was really considering all this.

Those remarkable and striking eyes rolled back to her, his grin making her absolutely melt. "There's a lot Uncle Chibs is going to have to help him with. But not _that_."

"Okay. _You_ can take him but that might be awkward."

She pushed her butt into his groin forcefully, making him grunt then laugh. "If you want to punish me you'll have to come up with something else. That's worth getting in trouble for."

When his cellphone rang, both her and Mickey jumped, encouraging another chuckle as Chibs reached for his phone. "Little jumpy, guys."

She kissed her son's head, breathing deep, loving that smell. Mickey laughed again, then fell silent at the sound of Chibs' voice.

"Aye?"

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," Val whispered, bringing his blue eyes back to her.

"Really? That's far north for them. Yeah, I think I can do that." He caught Valerie's eye. "Aye, he's going to be fine. We're at the hospital right now."

She smiled, liking how the "we" rolled right off his tongue.

"She's holding him with both hands like she's not letting go until he's shaving."

She laughed at that. "Tell Jax hi," she guessed, hoping it would be well received.

Chibs looked impressed. "Val says hi."

She just winked back.

"Yeah, I told her. She hasn't noticed anything up here." Pause. "Nah, he's in intensive care. We can only visit from nine to two. It's pretty hard on her, I think." He winked back at her. "Yeah. Give me another day here at least. Then I can meet Happy in Tacoma. Sure thing. Thanks." He ended the call, tucking the phone away and taking off his coat.

"Everything okay?" she asked when he didn't volunteer.

"Oh yeah. The Tacoma charter is calling in favours. Happy's on his way there right now. Jax wants me to go help him out. I'll go tomorrow."

"Oh," she said it lightly, but the disappointment was like a hammer to her chest. Then she scolded herself internally; did she think he had nothing better to do than sit here with her for days at the hospital? He'd been here for the scary parts. That was what was important.

Her _Oh _didn't really come across as casual, though. Like Tig, Chibs was way too damn intuitive. "Hey," he said softly, moving closer. "You want me to stay, I can call Jax back."

She shook her head. "No, no. I'm sorry. This isn't … I'm glad you came in the first place. I would have been a sobbing mess this whole time."

"A smelly, hungry, exhausted sobbing mess," he agreed. "But I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to stay really -"

"No," she shook her head. "Sorry. I'm … I'm not thinking clearly. I knew you had to leave eventually. I'm just … going to miss you."

"If you're still here when it's done I can come back," he offered.

Valerie made eye contact, smiling. "No, that's … that's a lot to ask. You've done a lot."

Val hoped he knew what she was saying. She was going to want time to decide what this was once they were outside of the bubble of their time here. Once he left this little vacation away from _everything else_ was over.

He wasn't upset by that, he just nodded. "All right."

"Kiss me," she suggested, and he did, holding her by the elbow, leaning over Mickey and brushing his lips on hers.

"I like doing that," he admitted.

"Good. Because I like it too."

He did it again, holding her head in place with both hands. His hands were tight on her, making her smile.

Mickey made a loud grunt, legs kicking and arms flailing because no one was paying attention to him. They broke apart, laughing,

"He's a wee bit possessive," Chibs declared.

"He has no idea what you're doing. He doesn't see that too often."

"Get used to it," Chibs muttered, more to her than Mickey. "I'm going to hunt down coffee. You think they'll let me bring it in here?"

Valerie shrugged. "Use some of that Scottish charm on the nurses."

"Smart ass," he said, leaving her in the curtained "room" with her son.

She parked it in the arm chair again, staring down at her gorgeous boy and wondering how the hell she was going to sort this all out. "Do you like him?" she asked.

Mickey stared at her, arms flying sideways, then brought his hands to his mouth as he laughed.

"Me too."


	8. Chapter 8

As enthused as he was to see her, it didn't take Mickey long to burn out and go straight to cuddly-and-sleepy mode. He fought it hard, but his eye lids kept drooping down for longer and longer periods of time. She was chuckling. "Just let it happen, my boy. Sooner you're better the sooner you get to play with the other kids."

The nurse came in for feeding time again, and she helped him hold up the bottle but he fell asleep before it was gone. So she left it out next to the bed, pulling him up onto her shoulder, rubbing his back. He burped a little but mostly he was passed out. So she left him there, more comfortable to move some of that weight onto her shoulder for a while. Then she wondered where Chibs had gotten to. He'd gone for coffee almost an hour ago.

She was pacing a small track next to the bed, rubbing Mickey's back, when the curtain opened. She was smiling, turning and saying, "Where'd you_ go_ for coffee?"

Then she gasped, a loud, sucking sound that made Mickey jerk awake, startled, fussing a little bit. But she was too stunned to comfort him.

Malcolm smiled at her, moving forward and wrapping her up in a hug the best he could while holding her son. She wanted to cry but she was too shocked.

"I flew in this morning," he said, kissing her cheek. "Peter's with me, but he's back at the motel. He's exhausted so I said I'd come see you first."

"I'm just … I can't believe you're here."

"We got rooms on the same floor as you."

"How'd you know where I was staying?"

"Common sense. That and we were driving by when Peter recognized your uh, _friend_ outside the motel." Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "He's driving to Starbucks to get you a decent cup of coffee?"

She felt herself give a goofy, soft-hearted smile. "He is?"

Malcolm shook his head. "That man is the _shit, _Valerie. He _drove _up here from California? In winter? And then he went to your house to get you clothes?"

So they _visited _for a while, she guessed. "I know. It's better than I deserve."

"It's what everyone should _have_." Malcolm looked almost annoyed. "How the hell do you end up finding these amazing men?"

"I don't know."

"And this one? How's he?" Mickey squealed as Malcolm tickled his side, wiggling away.

"He's a bit more chipper today, but he gets tired fast. You wanna hold him?"

Malcolm scoffed. "Do I wanna hold him?"

"You gotta hold him sideways. I know he's big for that but his stitches are in his chest."

"Yeah yeah, just hand him over." Malcolm's impatience made her smile. "I only got a while here before Sean Connery gets back."

"He doesn't sound anything like Sean Connery."

"That's the hottest Scot that comes to mind," Malcolm explained, letting Mickey settle against his fleshy chest. "He said you're probably only allowed two in here at a time. That's why Peter offered to nap first. So I could come and see the most gorgeous child in the world. And his mom."

"I'm so happy to see you," she admitted, knowing that if she was more exhausted she'd be bawling all over him right now.

"I'm glad you're both okay," he returned. "Christ, he's actually all _snuggly_; usually he wiggles so much you can't hold him."

"He's worn out. That's why we can only be in here until 2."

Malcolm watched his face for a while. "It must have been hard being here alone. Terrifying."

"I was so relieved to see Chibs," she admitted. "God, the only person that could have made me happier right then would have been …" she couldn't finish, choking off before she could say Tig's name.

"I know, honey. Sucks to be haunted, doesn't it?"

Valerie just nodded, resting her head on Malcolm's arm, staring down at those eyes she remembered quite well looking at her from a very, very different face.

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"Jesus, Malcolm. Let's just get caught up first, okay?"

"_That's_ a yes."

She poked his side. "I don't want to talk about it."

"There's nothing to feel guilty for." Fucking Malcolm and his fucking mind-reading. "My guess is he's crazy about you. And if he's _half _as good to you as I think he is in my limited contact with him, you totally deserve him, Valerie."

"I live very far away now."

"And he likes to ride a motorcycle. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"This kid is going to be repeating everything he hears very soon. Please don't teach him cuss words. That's _my _right and privilege."

Malcolm laughed at that. "Okay, we don't discuss _Fillip_. One last question. Is the sex good?"

"Amazing," she answered, knowing he wouldn't stop asking until she answered.

"Good." He jogged Mickey a little when he squawked. "It explains why you're _glowing _right now."

She shook her head. "Don't make a big deal about this, please. You'll freak me out. It's still a new thing. I like it right now, but I'm having these weird moments where I wonder what the hell I'm doing."

"That's okay. That's good. You're _thinking_ not just giving in to a desperate need to not be alone. What's up with him, anyway? Did he like you _before_?"

She sighed. "We always got along really great. He can make me laugh, Malcolm. It's just so _easy _to be with him."

"But did he _like_ you before?"

"I was pretty sure he did, on some level. I don't know _when _it started. He saved my life. _Three_ times. Then, when Tig was being a real _prick_ he offered to … make me feel better," she said with emphasis showing in her eyebrows.

Malcolm nodded. "Oh my. I see."

"Looking back … that wasn't just a sex thing. Not entirely anyway. He felt bad for me, too. It was the … _biker _equivalent of ice cream and a chick flick."

"I like him. I liked Trager, and I like this one. He's a little less … intense. How's he with the little one?"

Her heart clenched and she knew she made the goopy mommy smile. "He's amazing with him. Mickey loves him. Loves his beard."

"Well that's sorted. You've got a new man in your life."

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"You deserve this. You've proven you don't _need _one. But you _want_ one, this one, right?"

"I think I do."

"There. No problems. Figured out. Now, can I sit? He weighs a ton."

Val laughed and moved out of the way so he could wedge himself into the armchair. Mickey was trying to have a conversation and Malcolm decided to contribute. As comical as it was she had to pee. So she threw a soft "I'll be right back, bathroom" to him, not wanting to alert Mickey to the fact she was leaving.

She darted out of the curtain, just to run into someone standing on the other side. She jumped about a foot, then realized it was Chibs. He held two vente Starbucks take out cups, and she felt her heart sink a bit. Shit, had he overheard any of that?

Without saying anything else, he closed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply in a way that was not appropriate for any public place, never mind a hospital. He had his hands full, but he held the coffee out to the side and she found herself melting into him anyway, feeling pinned in place even if he wasn't holding onto her. She ended up holding onto _him_.

When he ended that kiss he didn't pull back all the way. His eyes were flitting over her face, a slight smile curling his lips. "You don't _need _me but you _want_ me then?"

_Shit._

She took a deep breath.

"Sorry. I overheard."

"You were eavesdropping."

"You were talking about _me_."

"Yeah."

His smile cracked all the way open. "You think I'm good with your son."

Shit, he'd heard a lot. "You are."

He nodded, then gave her a quick peck. "The coffee here's shit. There's no way a little cup of coffee needs four packets of sugar."

He remembered how she'd done her coffee the other day.

"So," he went on, holding up both cups. "One's sugary vanilla, one's sugary chocolate. Didn't know what you'd want, so you have first pick."

She looked at both cups. "Chocolate," she decided and he handed it over. "Thank you. Now, kiss me again."

And he did, free hand on the side of her neck, her hand holding onto his jacket. "Glad to be in your life, Val," he whispered, and it brought goose bumps to her arms.

She smiled, looking down. "I wish you hadn't heard any of that."

"I'm happy as shit to have heard it. Where are you going?"

"You didn't hear _that _part?" she sassed him back. "I have to use the washroom."

He took her cup back. "Go on then."

As she washed her hands in the restroom she couldn't miss the ridiculous smile on her face in the mirror.

…

"Come on, Momma. It's okay. They'll make sure he won't eat bugs or play with lit matches, I'm sure," Malcolm said to her gently. Valerie nodded, squeezing Mickey so tight he puffed his breath out and made a squeak of annoyance with her.

She kissed his cheek, the top of his head, then lip-nibbled his cheek until he giggled. Valerie hugged him again, then put him in the hospital bed while the nurse looked on. Malcolm gave her shoulder a squeeze, turning her away. She knew Mickey was wise to the whole good bye routine because before she was even through the curtains he was crying and hollering.

Malcolm tightened his grip around her shoulders and kept her walking. She had the burn of tears in her eyes and that horrible lump in her stomach that made her feel like a bad mother again. It was ridiculous but it was fact.

On the way through the swinging doors and into the waiting room she wiped her eyes, sniffled and pulled herself together, Malcolm rubbing her arm, wordlessly comforting her. As the door closed behind them Chibs got up from the vinyl bench where he'd apparently been waiting all this time.

Valerie smiled as he came forward. "You stayed here?"

"Not the whole time. I went back and took the dog for a walk. Talked to your brother a bit."

Valerie wanted to hug him and kiss him again but Chibs hung back, likely because Malcolm was there. That was different, too. Tig would have grabbed her anyway, held her by the ass and had his tongue in her mouth no matter who else was around.

_Stop doing that_, she told herself. _Stop making tallies._

She just smiled, said "Thank you," then enjoyed the smile he gave her back.

"Well, it's two in the afternoon in Prince Rupert. What kind of trouble can we get into?" Malcolm asked enthusiastically, clasping his hands together, making her burst out laughing.

"I don't know about trouble. But I'm starving," Val admitted.

"There's a restaurant just the other side of the hotel that's quite good," Chibs said, moving his smile to Malcolm. "Are you up to joining us?"

Valerie was going to fall in love with him eventually, she just knew it.

"Sure. Does it look like I've ever turned down the chance to eat?"

Valerie squeezed Malcolm's arm. "Let's go. Let's ask Peter, too."

Peggy was in need of another bathroom break, so she let her do her business while Malcolm invited Peter to eat with them. Once Malcolm was out of sight in Peter's room Chibs finally took her in his arms and kissed her properly, outside in the cold, but with plenty of warmth and tenderness. It made her sigh.

"How was boyo when you left?" he asked, keeping his face close to her, his arms around the centre of her back.

"He's fine. He cried, but he's likely forgotten about me again."

"Never. How's Mother?"

She smiled. "A mess."

He kissed her again, making Peggy bark. Apparently the dog thought Valerie was under attack.

"Peggy, shush," she admonished, shaking her head.

"It's not her fault. She's likely reading my mind, knowing what I'm thinking about doing to you next."

She smiled up at him, winding her arms around his neck. "Thank you for inviting them to eat with us."

"I'm glad they're here. Especially if I'm leaving tomorrow."

Her heart pulled just a little bit. He was right, it _will _be nice to have others around.

"I've told you how much I appreciate you coming here, right?"

He nodded. "You have."

"Just wanted to make sure. In case I forget to say thank you again."

He just smiled at her, then backed off her when the door to the room next to theirs opened. As soon as she saw Peter she ran to wrap him up in a hug, water in her eyes again.

"Little girl," he greeted her warmly, squeezing her super-tight. "How is he? How's Mickey?"

"He's great. He's tougher than I am," she sniffled. "You'll come see him tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." That's when Peter let her go. "Let's go eat. I'm starving. And freezing."

…

"She was screaming the whole way down the road. My mom was giving Dad shit, telling him she was too small to be on a motorcycle, knowing he couldn't hear her over that Sportster engine, and I was just fascinated that Dad wanted Val on his bike so bad. He knew _her _mom wouldn't let him do it so he waited until she had a chance to visit us one weekend."

Valerie was staring at the table top, shaking her head. She'd heard this story so many times and still couldn't remember it happening.

"So Dad comes screaming back into the driveway, stops the bike, and she's _still_ shrieking. Mom takes Val's helmet off, reading Dad the riot act. 'The last thing I want is Sofia Boyle here asking why I let you take her out on a bike. She'll _kill _me!' And as soon as Mom stops to take a breath Val looks up at Dad, and her eyes are big, and bright, and in this little voice she says 'I wanna go again!'"

Valerie broke into giggles, covering her face. "Peter, how the hell do you remember this? _I _don't remember this."

"You were five. Of course you don't remember this. I'm the older one, remember?"

"Little brat daredevil," Malcolm scolded, chuckling into his hand.

"I knew Dad wouldn't let me get hurt," she said with great confidence. "Because my mom would have cut his balls off while he slept."

Peter was nodding. "Yes, she certainly would have."

"So is Val a lot like her mom was, then?" Malcolm guessed, making her scoff.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she exclaimed, kicking at him under the table.

"Yes, she is." Peter answered. "Point just made."

"I'm not like my mom that much. I've really made progress controlling my violent impulses."

"Clearly," Malcolm mused, reaching under the table to rub his shin.

"That's just in the last year then?" Chibs asked politely, turning his eyes to her sideways and taking a pull on his beer.

She gave him the stink eye. "What are you making reference to?"

"I remember you breaking a biker's nose," he answered. "With your fist."

"He wouldn't let go of me."

"Jesus Val, you broke a guy's nose?" Malcolm was fascinated.

"He wouldn't let go of my arm. And no one else was around to help."

"He was about six-two and three hundred pounds," Chibs informed Malcolm and Peter. "If he hadn't screamed like a girl no one would have been there to help her when his vision stopped doubling. She's smart enough to talk her way out of things but sometimes she _punches _first. Isn't that right?"

His smile was wry and private, and when she caught on she threw her head back laughing, rewarded when Chibs did the same. The other two men at the table sat stunned.

"Okay kids, care to share with the group?"

Val got hold of herself, casting an apologetic smile to Malcolm. "Sorry. Not even sure how to explain it."

"Sometimes a brother makes it clear there's a lass he's exclusively interested in. And sometimes we're not sure if it's him or the patch she's after. So, if she has the possibility of making life hard for the club, we might ask another member to make a move on her, see if she's honestly interested in our boy and not looking to have a bike to ride on." Chibs summed it up with a grin at her.

Malcolm frowned. "Wow. Women just want bikers?"

"You have no idea," Val and Chibs said in unison.

It made Peter laugh. "Yeah, they have their own brand of groupies. I can remember that, too."

"Me too," she chimed in. "I didn't know it when we were younger, though."

"So wait," Malcolm was holding a hand up for clarification. "Who was sent to test out Val then? Is that what you're referencing here?"

Chibs gaze at her was surreptitious. She tried to keep her face straight as she looked away but she couldn't.

"Really?" Malcolm connected the dots fast. "Oh, that's too fantastic."

Peter was smiling. "You? They sent you? And she punched you?"

He pointed to his jaw. "Right here."

"It was a shitty shot," she admitted. "I was caught off guard and quite surprised. You didn't get my best stuff."

"You didn't get mine either," Chibs said, winking.

Her cheeks warmed and she hoped the blush wasn't obvious.

"Okay, gross, enough," Peter cut in. "We all know how mean Val is."

Malcolm grinned at her from across the table, and Chibs squeezed her hand on the bench seat between them. Right on cue the bill arrived, and before she could lunge for it Malcolm grabbed it with surprising stealth for someone his size.

"Malcolm, let me, please," she said, hand out. "You guys came all this way."

"No. I make more money than you."

"Asshole."

"Fine. I'm buying everyone else's _but _yours."

She stuck her tongue out at him. Honestly, two beers and she was twelve years old, apparently.

"I can't believe how tiring it is to fly," Peter said around a yawn, shrugging his jacket on.

"I think when the kids aren't around our bodies shut down to catch up," Valerie observed. "My sleeping patterns are all messed up right now."

"I'm sure they are," Malcolm mused in that evil way he had that meant everything and nothing, not even making sure _everyone _heard him say it. She kicked at him under the table as Chibs got up from their bench, offering a hand to help her out.

Malcolm just smiled, studying his bill like it was very interesting.

She shrugged her jacket on with some help, again noting the way her stomach fluttered every time Chibs did something gentlemanly.

"Thank you for supper Malcolm," she said with overdone sweetness.

"You're welcome Valerie," he replied in the same tone, lumbering to his feet.

"Very kind," Chibs added, offering his hand, which Malcolm shook. "Now, if you'll excuse us to walk ahead of 'ya, I'm anxious to get Valerie back in bed."

Her mouth fell open and Malcolm blinked four times quickly. "Fillip Telford," she scolded.

Malcolm burst into the most boisterous laughter she'd heard in a long time, holding up his hands in surrender. "Be my guest, sir."

She was likely blushing furiously, and Peter looked uncomfortable but gave her a hug anyway. "Go ahead. I'll hang out with Malcolm." At least _he _could find it funny, too.

Chibs was laughing to himself, taking her by the arm and leading her to the restaurant door, but she was trying to use anger to make herself stop blushing. "I can't believe you just said that," she was hissing as they made it to the sidewalk.

He laughed again, taking her by the hand and pulling her along with him. "You don't think I knew what he meant with that sleeping pattern comment?"

"I was hoping you'd missed that."

They walked in quiet the rest of the way, every now and then she'd just start laughing again then punch him in the shoulder.

Peggy greeted them like they'd been gone for a decade, peeing quickly and then jumping all over them both like she hadn't expected them to come back _ever_. They roughhoused with her a bit, then had to concede to the cold and head inside. Valerie was hanging up her jacket and blowing on her hands to warm them up when Chibs pounced.

He spun her to him, hands on her arms, kissing her deep and passionately, like he'd missed her as much as the dog had. Again, the second his lips made contact on hers her body melded against his chest and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding onto his neck and hair to make sure he didn't let go.

When he parted from her mouth, biting her lip as he did it, he said low, under his breath, "So you only _want_ me then? Let's work on you _needing _me for the next little while."

* * *

**Two more chapters after this, and the fourth and final instalment of the Valerie Turner saga is coming along nicely as well. As always, comments and reviews are like a love-drug.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Jesus love, who taught you to ride like _that_?"

Valerie laughed quietly, breathless and exhausted, sliding off Chibs' chest to curl up next to him, spent, sweaty and ridiculously blissful. He rolled to his side to face her, taking her hand and kissing her fingers.

"I hate having to be quiet," she admitted, eyes closing.

"It worked out just fine," he assured her, and she opened her eyes in time to see his smile beaming down at her. "But I like it when you're vocal, too."

She decided she could stare at him all day. There was just so much in his face to entertain her. All his intentions were in his eyes. His mouth was always one comment away from smiling. And when she ran a hand along his cheek, stroking his scars, he'd close his eyes like he believed she could erase them or something. He became utterly still, letting her touch, and she knew it didn't bother him.

"Christ, I don't want you to go," she admitted while he stroked her forearm absently.

"It's a good idea," he admitted. "This isn't real life. This is two people locked in a hotel room for hours at a time, not even doing laundry or cooking a meal together. This isn't sustainable."

"I know."

"Let's say you give up everything here, come back with me to Charming. Can you even imagine that?"

She bit her lip, shaking her head. "No."

"If this works, and you clear your head and still decide for whatever reason you still want to have anything to do with the likes of _me_, it has to go slow. You know it's not going to be a simple life with me. And it's even more complicated for you. Your son is still little, growing. He'll have a lot of questions as time goes on. And do you want him around that? Even with the changes at SAMCRO? The Sons aren't exclusively legit. Other charters are still business as usual. Hence me going to Tacoma."

She frowned. "Is that going to be dangerous?"

He smiled, hand to her cheek. "You prove my point. Time away is a good idea."

"I know. But I'm going to want to have more to do with_ the likes of you, _Fillip."

"There must be something wrong with you," he laughed.

Her face fell. She couldn't help it. Her stomach flopped a little bit, too.

_There's something wrong with you, Val_, it echoed through her head, hearing the trace of Tig's laughter when he'd say it.

"What's wrong?" Chibs asked, face serious, rising up on one elbow.

She shook her head, trying to smile. It probably looked fake. "Nothing."

He ran his fingers behind her ear, into her hair, bringing his face closer. "Don't lie, Val. Something hit you right there. I can see it in your face."

"It's nothing."

"_Val_," he coaxed, not taking bullshit as an answer.

"Tig, I said I'm fine," she burst out, exasperated.

His hand froze where it was and his expression went blank. It took some rewinding in her mind to realize what she'd done. When she did, she covered her mouth, eyes trying to tell him she didn't mean it. "I'm sorry -"

He rolled away, onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Chibs," she whispered. "I'm sorry … I …" What could she even say? And now he was shut down. Completely.

_Shit._

She inched closer. "Jesus. I don't know why I said that."

He sat up on the edge of the bed, paused for a moment, then grabbed his clothes off the ground and made for the bathroom without a word.

Tears stung her eyes. Her stomach was somewhere around her feet. Her heart had … stopped. Suddenly she really didn't want to be naked anymore.

She got up, pulled her jeans and sweater back on, then sat on the foot of the bed to wait for … whatever he was going to say.

_Shit_.

Time machine. She wanted a time machine to go back and _not _make that stupid mistake. She'd been thinking about Tig and then it just came out. _Shit_.

That was it. She'd fucked it up. Big time.

The door opened and she couldn't look at him. Her only response was to sob, then cover her mouth. It wasn't to get sympathy, and he didn't offer it. He crossed the room, dressed, then started pulling on his boots. He wasn't saying anything, but eventually someone had to say _something_.

"Where are you going?" she asked, voice small.

"Tacoma."

Yep, fucked it all up good. _Good job, Val._

"Now?"

He shrugged his coat on. "Why not?"

"Give me shit. At least yell at me."

"What does that solve? It doesn't mean you're over him. And it doesn't make you like me any more than you do. Wasted energy."

She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Fuck. I don't know why that came out. You said something that reminded me of him and then -"

"And then you called me someone else's name. I know the rest. I was here for it."

"Chibs -"

"It's going to happen. You're going to be reminded of him. And I knew him too, so it'll happen a lot. You're not ready. And maybe neither am I." She hated how calm and low his voice was. It didn't sound like him at all.

_Shit_.

He turned and left with that, slamming the door behind him. She frowned. That was _it_? Discussion done? Issue closed? He said he was basically in love with her one day ago and now that's off?

Fuck. That.

She got up, yanked the door open, and shouted "Fillip Telford, we're _not _done."

He was at the door of his rental SUV, but he stopped and turned back to her. "Yeah, we are, Val."

"No we're not."

"You want to have an argument?"

"Yes, I do," she answered.

He crossed the parking lot again, stopping on the sidewalk. She shivered in the doorway but he made no move to enter the room.

"Come back inside, Chibs."

"No. I'm not interested in arguing with you in there, considering what we've been doing in that room."

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Here it is. I just fucked up. I know that. Yeah, my head is still screwed up. I'm having mood swings from being over the moon one second to feeling totally fucking guilty the next. And I don't know what to do with that. Am I guilty for enjoying myself? Or because it's with his friend? I don't know."

"I came here to help you, pleased as shit you asked," he said, anger barely bubbling up. "It was all I was here for. But when I got here you weren't what I was expecting. You didn't just want my help, it was like you needed me to be here. You want to talk about over the moon, Val? It's all I've been wanting for over a year."

She had to look at her feet.

"You're not some clingy, needy woman. I know that. But you know what it means when someone like you asks someone like me for help? You know what kind of men we are. We like to take care of our women, Val. You asking me for help? Christ, it was negligee and heels over the phone."

Again, there was nothing she could say.

"You could have asked me for money, to unclog a drain, take out some asshole that's bothering you, or kill a fucking spider. Wouldn't have mattered. I would have come for any reason. The point was you asked _me_. Now I don't know if it's because you wanted _me _to be the one here or if I'm just the sap that's left."

"You know that was my concern, too. That you'd think that way."

"Look what just happened, Val! It confirms it, even if you don't know it yourself."

"It confirms _nothing_," she spat out.

"I told you I wasn't interested in competing with your memory of him, remember?"

"Of course."

"You're remembering a perfect version of him, just because he's not around anymore to remind you otherwise."

She sighed. "Chibs, of course I remember the good things."

"And you forgot that he was an _asshole_."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

"I loved him too, Val. But he was an asshole to 'ya, 'ya likely forgot that part. I_ didn't._ I saw your face when you caught him with that croweater at the clubhouse, and I saw him take plenty more to his room after that, too." He got close now. "He was an _ass _to 'ya. You might be able to forgive that now, but I can't. That fucker got to be with you and that's how he treated 'ya." His voice caught and she felt her face crumple at that.

"Speaking ill of the dead," she warned.

"What's the worst that'll happen? He comes back and breaks my heart? It just happened."

_Shit_.

"You know how much it hurt to lose him. Why are you saying all this?"

"I couldn't even watch that part. I refused to watch you say goodbye to him. I couldn't take 'ya hurting that much in front of me. You catching him cheating was enough hurt for me to see. I went inside your house, didn't come out until Juice told me he was dead."

She couldn't remember that. She couldn't actually remember who else _had _been on her lawn, come to think of it.

"Then let's talk about the final hurt. I know what you were doing, I know you said what you said, hoping it would piss me off enough so I wouldn't come after 'ya. And in my own pathetic mind, I was glad it hurt 'ya 'cause it meant 'ya cared. I actually held on to that shite."

"Val? Is everything okay?" Peter's door was open, and he was leaning in the doorjamb, eyeing up Chibs with a fair bit of bravado. She was impressed with him.

"Don't worry Peter," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. But there's nothing to be done for it," Chibs corrected.

"Go back inside, Peter."

"If a lass accidently calls you by her dead lover's name, what's your expected reaction?" Chibs asked her brother.

"Don't you dare," she whispered, suddenly furious. "This is _our _business."

"We're in a public place."

"Because you won't come inside!" she volleyed back, pissed off now.

"Just saying, little girl, the whole place can likely hear this," Peter warned, shutting his door again.

Chibs just glared at her like it was _her _turn, and she had _nothing_. Not a single word of comeback was readily available, because everything he said had confirmed her worst fears. He'd been far gone on her for a long time and she was nowhere near catching up.

She did the only thing she could think of. "Fuck you then," she sobbed and slammed the door.

She made it two steps back into the room when her anger melted, replaced by painful guilt and miserable regret. It didn't matter that it was an accident. It didn't matter that she'd been fully aware he wasn't Tig. It didn't matter she was aware he was incredibly different from Tig in more ways than he was _like _Tig. None of it fucking mattered because her brain wasn't fucking working for a split second when her mouth decided it was safe to say something.

_Haunted_ was a good word for it, Malcolm was so right. It sucks to be haunted.

She fell into an armchair, crying and feeling pathetically sorry for herself, mentally giving herself a lashing. She was enough of a mess that she was agreeing with Chibs; she didn't deserve him anyway. She deserved to be alone.

She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, letting her heart spill out of her throat, her eyes seeming to have an unending supply of tears. She shouldn't have called in the first place. She should have just dealt with all of this one her own. She hadn't been ready to be in the situation to become emotionally or physically involved in anything.

Peggy was sympathetic. The bulldog popped her head up on the edge of the chair and licked her toes, tail wagging at half-mast like she wasn't sure she was helping. Valerie reached out to play with her ears, not feeling any better for it but Peggy seemed to like it.

The door opened. She didn't look up. Peggy licked at her toes again, then _she _was the one to peer up at Chibs, tail swinging. Valerie moved backwards in the chair as he took Peggy's spot in front of her, hands on the seat next to her, not touching her. She still couldn't look at him.

"You feel better?" she asked coldly.

"No."

"Because it sounds like you were sitting on some of that for a long time."

"Maybe."

"You don't get to pass judgement on what I had with Tig," she said softly. "That was never any of your business. Of course I know what happened but your opinion of it doesn't lessen how much I loved him. Or how much he loved me. Because I _know _he did."

"I know he did, too."

"He knew me better than you do. You might have an_ idea _of me that I just can't live up to. A conception of me that isn't entirely based on really _knowing _me."

He was quiet. She still couldn't look at him. Sure there were tears; she was crying. But her voice still sounded strong to her.

"I don't think you get how much it meant to me when I saw you in that waiting room at the hospital. Coming all that way to make sure I could handle this. And for almost two years all my energy has been poured into being a _mom_, taking care of a house and a child. Even before Mickey was _here _I lost all myself to making sure everything was set for him. Just having you being _kind _to me was enough to bring _me _back. I'm more than a mom. I am a living, breathing person. And it was so nice to feel like a woman again, you have no idea."

He tried to take her hands but she pushed him away. It was enough to make Peggy give one short growl. Chibs backed off.

"I feel more guilty for what I accidentally just did than I do for what we've had these past few days. Just because_ I_ was back for a split second, remembering the last time I felt this happy and I fucked this all up. That's on me. But you suggesting I intentionally called you here just to do that? How fucking _dare _you. For Christ's sake, I'm giving you everything I think I have left and you throw it back and tell me it's not good enough." That's when she ran out of backbone, curling up in a ball and sobbing.

He wrapped arms under her, sliding her down into his lap, molding her face to his neck, wrapping her up sideways in his arms, kissing her hair. Rubbing her arm.

"Fuck. I'm a right bastard."

"You have a right to be cautious," she admitted.

"I have no right to make 'ya feel like shit."

Valerie stilled on his lap, tears trailing off, trying not to appreciate the warmth of him holding her. Even with everything he'd said she was relieved he was sorry.

"I asked you not to give up on me," she said, voice small.

"I know."

"You said you wouldn't."

"I know." He kept stroking her hair, rubbing her arm, even rocking her back and forth. "I was waiting for him to show up, I admit it. And … I know 'ya didn't mean it."

"I'd take it back if I could."

"I know." Another quiet moment. "What did I say?"

"What?"

"What did I say that reminded you of him?"

"I can't -"

"Please Val. What was it?"

She sniffled, debating on it, fingering the zipper on his jacket. It seemed beyond fucking petty …

"Every time I said something nice to him or told him how I felt about him he would give me this laugh like I was nuts and say, _There's something wrong with you_. That's what you said. And it just … reminded me of that."

"Okay," he said easily. "Now I know. I know what that look on your face means. And I won't push the issue. And I promise to try to not get mad. But I have to know that you really do want _me_, Val. I don't think it's unfair to ask that."

She sat up straight, holding his face between her hands. "Christ Chibs, I want you. I wouldn't be arguing with you if I didn't. Do you want me? Even if I'm an emotional mess?"

"The messier the better, love," he said, finally smiling. "Makes you a bit less intimidating, actually."

"You know how important Mickey is to me. If that's going to cause problems -"

"He's important to me, too. I'm crazy about his mom and would have died for his father. He's about the cutest little shit I've ever seen. 'Ya both seduced me completely."

She laughed, sniffling and wishing she could go wash her face; she probably _looked _a mess, too.

"Come on," he said gently. "I think we should both get some sleep. And I have to get up early."

"Okay," she agreed. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for being an asshole."

"No, it's a good argument to have. It's a good sign, actually."

"It is?"

"We can say these things to each other. You said this isn't really _real life_, but that argument was."

He studied her for a long moment. "You're right. Of course."

"And so are you. Let's get some sleep."

She wore underwear and a T-shirt, he came back to bed in his shorts. And then it happened. She was on her side, facing the window. He pulled her back to his chest, curled himself around her, arm just resting over her hip, and within minutes she fell asleep, held like she'd been dreaming about.

…

Peggy was whining, and Valerie's first instinct was to tell her to shut up. Then she realized the poor girl likely needed to go outside she was about to throw the blankets back when Chibs grumbled next to her ear, "I'll get her. Stay here."

She snuggled into the blankets, watching him open the door, let the dog out, then hold the curtain back a bit to make sure Peggy didn't wander off. She found herself smiling as he mussed up his hair and yawned loudly.

When Peggy was done she was admitted again, curling back up on the doggy bed. Chibs slid back into bed behind her, and when he cuddled up to her again she gasped sharply. "Christ – you're freezing!" she gasped, trying to wiggle away.

"I know, woman. You need to warm me back up."

He was stronger than her so she lost that struggle, relaxing into his arms again. When she realized he was aroused but not acting on it, she felt warmth return. She turned in his arms, winding her legs in his, pressing against him from chest to hip. He tried to pull his hips back, but she kept pressing closer until he laughed, "Val, cut it out."

She kissed his chest, his throat, then rolled him to his back as he chuckled again, no longer trying to stop her. But he did keep talking. "What are you up to now?"

She slid up to his face, kissing him once softly. "You're leaving in a couple of hours?"

"Yes."

"When will I see you again?"

"I don't know, love."

"That's my point."

He pushed her hair behind her ear. "Are you sure?"

"I'd rather have_ this_ be the intense moment I keep after you're gone. Not an argument in a parking lot."

He smiled. "I like that logic."

She ran a hand down his stomach, into his boxers, taking him in her hand gently. The satisfaction on his face was beautiful to her; he didn't roll his eyes up or scrunch his face in a ridiculous way. He smiled at her, his face fell slack, and his eyes wouldn't leave hers.

Valerie moved down even lower, and when he realized what she wanted to do his smile broadened. "Valerie, sweetheart -"

"What?"

"I'm not going to last."

"Then you better have enough in the tank for a round-trip, babe."


	10. Chapter 10

"Oh God, _Fillip_,"she was gasping against his lips, her knees tightening against his hips, nails digging another set of crescent-moon marks in his back, the orgasm closing around him, tearing a soft whimper from her throat as she tried to remember that she knew the people in the next room.

"Valerie, Christ," he grunted, stilling while she trembled, mouth dropping to her neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispered when she was through it.

"Sorry for what?"

She shook her head. "That ... I … I can't get enough of you."

She _felt _him smile, felt the shift in his beard, tickling her skin, making her sigh, running her hand across his hair.

"Well then, it's a good thing I haven't finished yet."

"You didn't?" she was surprised. "I thought -"

He rose up to smile down on her. "I think I'm getting the hang of 'ya, love. I'm just going to keep doing _that _to 'ya."

"That's an excellent plan."

He shifted his knees up under her hips, raising her ass off the mattress, rolling against her, shocking her with this new angle. But before she could make a noise, he was kissing her again, so sweet and lovely. It continued … and continued, him not letting her up for air, and she didn't want him to.

The motion of his body and his tongue in her mouth were like hypnotism. She fell into that rhythm, completely abandoned to it, her mind on stand-by. She was nothing but a receptor for how completely wonderful it was to make love to him.

They climaxed together, panting into each other's mouths, not letting that kiss end, hands clenching each other tight enough to leave bruises.

That was when the pang of sadness hurt. It was done. He was going to leave now.

Chibs continued caressing and kissing her, but when he separated from her, Valerie felt her heart sink.

Dammit. His leaving was going to … _hurt_.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said softly, stroking her hair, eyes running over her face.

"Okay."

"Then I have to go."

Her hands tightened on him as she said, "I know."

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too."

He kissed her forehead, then got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Valerie got up, got dressed. Peggy needed to go outside again, so Valerie put on her jacket and watched the dog make her mark on the fresh snow. She sniffed around the vehicles and decided nothing was interesting, returning to sit at Valerie's feet, tail wagging.

"You all done my girl?" Valerie asked, crouching down to scratch behind Peggy's ears.

Peggy licked her cheek, and Val knew she was crying, just a little bit. "What do you think, honey? Can I really be lucky enough to have someone else care that much about me?"

Peggy just wagged her tail.

"It feels good. I like him."

Peggy licked her again. Valerie laughed. "Okay, fair enough. I'm on my own."

She let the dog back into the room, shrugging out of the jacket before sitting cross-legged in the centre of the bed. There was a lump in her throat she couldn't swallow down.

She tried to imagine what he'd suggested the night before. Packing her life up and going back to Charming. Her, Mickey and Peggy rolling back into town. Then what? Buying a house again? Starting up the practice she'd intended to start with Teresa? Falling in love with Chibs?

That all seemed nuts. Except the last part. That last part seemed completely plausible.

The bathroom door opened and he strode out, hair wet, feet bare, looking like a regular person. The intimate knowledge hit her that he _wasn't_. He was someone she saw kill people; people that wanted to hurt _her._ He let her go running off at the mouth, sticking her nose places it shouldn't have gone before pulling her back to avoid it being taken off, even trying to get her to understand that Tig was trying to hurt her to get her away from Charming. Every kind and badass thing he'd ever done came flooding back, this bubble of non-reality bursting. The vacation from life was over, he was SAMCRO, knew the father of her child well, had that in common with her, and thought the fucking world of her. Yep, reality crashed down _hard_.

Not mattering in the fucking least.

She flew across the room, hugging him, smiling when he squeezed her back without hesitation. It was likely how she attacked him when she first saw him walk into the waiting room.

"You're not going to convince me to stay Val," he chuckled. "Although, it's a good try."

She hated to question the good things in her life. There had been a whole lot of bad; she never really lost sleep wondering why it had happened to_ her _in a self-pitying way. Mostly the _bad _just pissed her off and sent her off with her typical, Russian-mother-inspired anger. All impulse, not a lot of _thinking_.

The good stuff always felt less tactile, less permanent. She would stew and question why _good _things were happening to her.

The man in front of her wasn't the man she'd fallen in love with in Charming. He was a good friend that had done a lot for her. Saved her life. Had been willing to go to the ends of the earth to protect her, comfort her.

She wouldn't question the ease with which she fell into this comfortable state with him, this level of physical intimacy that from the outside might have felt _fast_. If Tig was around this never would have happened. But Tig wasn't around, and she deserved to be fully appreciated by someone who had always cared about her, even when sex or anything else wasn't a possibility. Who else could she have this kind of _understanding _with?

She couldn't say anything else to him, however, so she backed off, sat in an armchair, and watched him pack up the few things he'd brought with him. When he was ready to go she put her coat on and walked him to his SUV. He held her hand, letting go to stow his stuff in the back. Then he was standing in front of her, ready to say goodbye.

"Give Mickey a big hug for me?" he asked.

"Of course."

"And take good care of his mom, yeah?"

She smiled. "I will."

"And call for anything."

"Even killing a spider," she agreed.

He pushed her hair behind her ear, making her close her eyes. "You are so hard to leave."

Her eyes teared up. "How'd we get here so fast?"

"Where?"

"To the point where it hurts when you leave."

"You miss Charming whether you know it or not, Val." His face got serious. "Me coming here? That was me coming _you_." He stepped closer, eye contact growing more intense as he held her face with both hands. "This was me … coming to _you_."

He was saying something here, and she was trying to catch up. "Okay."

"I'm not doing it again, though." He gave her hair a painless tug. "The next move is yours, love."

She had to smile. "Wow."

"What?"

"I like that."

"You do?"

She nodded. "I do."

He gave her a careful kiss, touched her cheek one more time, then climbed behind the wheel.

And left.

She had tears in her eyes when she couldn't see the vehicle anymore. Wow, wow it all _really _hurt.

A different hurt. She could see him again. She was more than _invited _to go see him. But man, she _really _wanted him with her. At least having that as a _possibility _took the edge off.

She fell back on the bed in the room, Peggy jumping up to join her, curling up and tucking into the back of her knees. Valerie didn't tell her to get off the bed, she just let her hand fall back to scratch behind the bulldog's ears, smiling as she sighed hotly on Val's leg and rested her big doggie head on her hip.

It didn't matter where she was or the reasons why she went where she did. She had no reason to be afraid if there were people in Charming that cared about her.

Life became clear and simple. She knew what she wanted. And a big part of what she wanted just left.

…

_**Four months later …**_

"Okay, hand him over," Malcolm demanded, holding both hands out.

It was a moot gesture. Mickey no longer wanted to be held or carried. Instead of sitting on her good friend's lap, he wiggled until Malcolm relented, lowering the little beggar to the floor on his feet. So Malcolm lumbered to his feet as well, Mickey gripping his index fingers, and let the boy stumble around on rapidly strengthening legs.

It made Valerie smile wide, sitting on her porch, chin in hand, propped up on the patio table. It was a gorgeous late-spring day, and coming up on Mickey's first birthday. That's why Malcolm was here, that's why Peter, his fiancée Desiré, and their daughter Annette had all made the journey to British Columbia, too.

Malcolm patiently walked her son up and down the porch, her boy's face breaking out into a wide grin every time he caught sight of her watching him. That smile was changing, growing a little wilder every week, and in combination with his eyes he was really, _really _starting to resemble his dad.

Once he'd been released from the hospital he caught up with other kids his age _fast_, development-wise. He didn't want to crawl. He wanted to _walk _right now. And he was very good, but when people were around he regressed and wanted the attention of an adult helping him. He could clear the length of her kitchen and living room on his own when it was just her and him. When he had a chair with felted feet to push around Mickey was absolutely unstoppable.

"They grow up so fast," Desiré mused, watching Annette throw the ball for Peggy. She only had a few months on Mickey but she'd been walking at six months and looked ready to tackle track-and-field hurdles. Little keener.

Peggy chased the ball with plenty of enthusiasm even through the little girl only threw it about four feet. She was so eager bringing it back Val kept expecting the slight thing to get bowled over, but Peter was there to steady his daughter, who would shriek and giggle as Peggy would attack her with a slobbery tongue.

"So, you're really considering leaving?" Desiré asked, bringing Val's attention back to her.

Val smiled. She hadn't known Desiré long, but she had liked her upon meeting her, and she was so good for Peter it was impossible _not _to like her. Valerie found talking to the woman so incredibly easy it was like she'd known her all her life.

"I am," she admitted, casting her eyes back to the yard. "I must be insane. This place is so gorgeous, and I worked hard to set myself up here. But …"

Desiré chuckled. "But this isn't really where your heart is?"

Did she mention Desiré was really fucking smart, too?

Val bit her lip. "I suppose it isn't. I thought I'd left it dead in Charming. I guess part of it's still kicking around there."

Desiré squeezed her hand. "Don't go there _for_ a man, Val. Go there because he makes you happy."

Val felt tears but laughed them off. "That's exactly what I'm considering."

"What are your patients saying about this?"

"I've found replacements for everyone now. They _pretend _to understand at least. They all think there's a man there too, so that's sort of funny. Of course, I don't tell them_ why_. I must be _that _transparent." She wiped her eyes. "Once this place sells that'll be it. I'm just … holding off on that. Don't know why."

"You're scared. That's natural." They quietly watched her daughter play and Mickey show off his walking skills. "Has he contacted you?"

Valerie shook her head. "No. That was clear. The next move is all on me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He said coming up here for Mickey's medical emergency was his move. Now it's my turn."

Desiré shook her shoulders. "Man. That's … that's pretty hot, actually."

Valerie laughed. "What?"

"Laying down the law like that. _You come to _me_, woman,"_ she said it with an exaggerated deep voice, making Val laugh, too. "Seen so many men making asses out of themselves to accommodate. That's … really hot."

Valerie shook her head. "You have no idea how bossy this type can be."

"Just makes the sweet even sweeter though, doesn't it?"

Yep._ Really _fucking smart.

"Mail's here!" Peter declared loudly, scooping Annette into his arms. "Want me to get it?"

"Sure!" Val bellowed back, watching him swing his daughter back and forth while walking the short lane to her mailbox.

"So you might just go down there, him not expecting you?" Desiré continued.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Hot _and _romantic. I love it."

Valerie wasn't sure about the _romantic _part. The thought of rolling into the Teller-Morrow lot with a vehicle packed full of necessities and a baby, hoping a man was willing to take on all her shit actually had her nearly hyperventilating.

For all she knew Jax would have her escorted out of town, despite what Chibs had assured her of. But maybe not. She'd just have to see.

Peter gave a bunch of envelopes to Annette at the foot of the steps, and she darted up the wooden treads , shoved the screen door open, and proudly presented the bounty to Aunt Valerie. Val kissed her cheek then her head then her cheek again until she collapsed into giggles, at which point Desiré bundled her up into her arms.

She flipped through bills, invitations for an amazing satellite TV offer, then her hands stopped.

"What are the odds?" she asked, flipping an envelope over so Desiré could see the front.

"Wow," Desiré breathed, stilling, eyes widening on Val.

Return address in Charming, an address she knew really fucking well. She used to live there.

It was obviously a card. Val had a moment to wonder how the hell Teresa knew when Mickey's birthday was while tearing open the flap, then she was pulling out a lovely piece of ivory stationary that had a navy-blue organza ribbon wrapped around it.

"Holy shit," she whispered, then looked up to Desiré. "Sorry."

Desiré shrugged. "Peter will have her swearing very soon. Drop in the bucket, really." She tilted her head. "Is that a wedding invite?"

But Valerie was already opening it, waiting to die laughing. Holy shit. Holy _shit_.

_Teresa Marie Stewart and Juan Carlos Ortiz request the pleasure of your presence at their wedding …_ was as far as she got.

"You have _got _to be shitting me."

Desiré laughed. "What is it?"

She was working her mouth like a damn goldfish. "The end of my understanding of the universe. That's what it is."

Desiré laughed harder. "A _wedding invitation _does all that?"

"You have no idea."

"What'd you get?" Malcolm asked.

Valerie was laughing now. "My straight-laced, stick up her ass assistant is marrying a fully-patched member of Sons of Anarchy," she answered, holding up the invite.

Malcolm raised his eyebrow. "Oooh. Love the colours."

"Of course you do."

"What'd you get?" Peter asked, joining them and parking it next to Desiré on the tête-a- tête.

"You remember Juice, right?"

"_Juice?_" Desiré repeated, confused. "That's a hell of a name."

"Yeah," Peter answered. "He's the other one I met when I came to visit you in Charming, right?"

"Yeah. He's marrying Teresa." She handed the invitation over as Peter cracked up.

"You're kidding me." Of course he wanted to see the proof.

Peter had met Teresa a few times, they got along _okay_. But anyone who met Teresa knew the girl couldn't let herself loose for a single second. But apparently she had and it was _really _agreeing with her.

Peter read over the invite, then cast knowing eyes up at her. "Know what this means, little girl?"

"What?"

"You have a deadline to decide to sell this place and get yourself back to Charming."

All eyes turned to her, and she swallowed. Mickey broke free of Malcolm, hit her knees and she bent to pull him into her lap. "Yeah," she mused absently. "I guess I do."

* * *

**A fourth instalment is in the works for Valerie, in the meantime thanks for all the wonderful comments, follows and favourites. They are all appreciated!**


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